


Ashes of Eden

by LadyLionhart



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Reylo - Freeform, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Stranded, Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 103,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLionhart/pseuds/LadyLionhart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren makes a split-second decision that changes the course of both his and the scavenger's lives. But will his choice bring about their mutual destruction, or could the last ray of Light within him be saved after all?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>He soared – just like that, as effortless as a bird taking flight, he soared in infinite light. The Force was still there – all around him. It was in the air he breathed, in the ground beneath his feet – it was there, in everything, luminous in its vastness, incandescent and radiant as it flowed and ebbed. And in its clarity, he recalled the most important thing.</p>
  <p>Their bond.</p>
  <p>The bond between him and Rey – flashing like an emerald ribbon in the golden firelight, rippling like the wind chasing silver, sun-lit ripples through a sea of swaying grass.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gravitate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** This fanfiction was written purely for entertainment purposes and for a deep love of this amazing universe. I am not profiting from this fanfiction in any way, and no copyright infringement has been intended. 
> 
> **Author’s Notes:**  
>  ❤ The story starts after the infamous interrogation scene, but before Han and Finn are anywhere near Starkiller Base. In chapter 2, we branch off from the movie's storyline.
> 
> ❤ Rey pieced together that Kylo Ren was Ben Solo after the interrogation. I figured that if she was able to see one of his deepest fears, she probably saw his real identity as well, and with what Han had told her and Finn earlier about Luke's apprentice and the Jedi, she figured it out by herself. This also ties in to the background of my story.
> 
> ❤ Rey has her own background and heritage that I created for the purpose of this story.
> 
> ❤ I did not always strictly follow canon. I took liberties with timelines, Force Bonds, the Force, character histories, etc. That said, this fanfiction is canon compliant.
> 
>  **Song:** The title comes from one of my favourite songs ever, Ashes of Eden by Breaking Benjamin. For me, this song fits perfectly with Ben and Rey's relationship. Go listen to it, it’ll pull your heartstrings.

 

# Part One: Aberrant

 

###  _aberrant_ — deviating from the proper course

* * *

# 1

## Gravitate

_Will the faithful be rewarded_

_When we come to the end_

_Will I miss the final warning_

_From the lie that I have lived_

_Is there anybody calling_

_I can see the soul within_

_And I am not worthy_

_I am not worthy of this_

Ashes of Eden, Breaking Benjamin

* * *

Terror shook through Rey's limbs in violent shudders.

A squad of Stormtroopers marched by and she flattened herself against the alcove wall, clutching her stolen blaster so hard her knuckles went white. She'd hoped to regain some steadiness in her hands, but still the tremors continued like ripples of electricity, threatening to leave her paralyzed in fear.

_No. Keep moving. I need to keep moving._

She couldn’t remain in one spot for too long.

They would find her, and they would _kill_ her – or drag her back to that chair.

In her frantic state of mind, she didn’t know which was worse.

Somehow she managed to make her unwilling body respond, and peeked into the abandoned hallway. _Now’s my chance._ Drawing a deep breath through her dry lips, Rey slipped out of hiding, silent as a mouse. Wide eyes darting from left to right, she hurried onwards, blaster at the ready.

With her heartbeat hammering in her throat, she wondered where exactly she was going, because she had no idea where she was, let alone which star system she was in. The last thing she could remember was the forests of Takodana - but she doubted she was anywhere near that place now.

She could only hope the others were alright.

Quietly moving through the shadows, Rey let instinct guide her way. She was an expert of getting into places – navigating them, finding their secrets – and getting out of them too.

But she knew this was different. This was no skeletal ship, free for the picking. This wasn’t simply outmaneuvering a rival scavenger, or a dangerous group of thugs. Every step she took would either count for her, or against her. One wrong move and they would be alerted to her presence.

One wrong move, and the sliver of a chance she had for escape would be gone.

And she was on borrowed time to begin with.

Any minute now, _he_ would find her missing.

_Focus, Rey. There’s no time for this now._

She swiped a hand across her sweaty brow, crouching low while avoiding another group of Stormtroopers making their rounds. This place was like a maze - a nightmarish trap of endless hallways - but as soon as she saw the sign for the hangars, she realized where her instincts had been leading her.

_I’ll steal a ship and get the hell out of here._

And then, as sudden and violent as a sandstorm, she sensed _him_.

His rage _burst_ through her mind, so fierce and intense that it knocked her right off her feet. She crashed to the floor. Grasping her head, a cry of surprise wrenched from her lips as the blaster clattered to the black tiles. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that her gasps were echoing too loudly through the hallway–

But his anger was an almost palpable thing; a tempest threatening to engulf her entirely, obliterating any and all clear thought, until, for a few horrible moments, she couldn’t for the life of her recall what she'd been doing, or where she'd been going.

Her vision swam. A blaster lay on the floor before her. She focused on it, agony distorting her features. She tried to think, tried to _remember_.

_Move, Rey, you need to move!_

With a shaking hand, she grabbed the weapon and used the wall to drag herself back to her feet, spurred on by the fear left in the wake of his burning fury.

But she could not escape his voice inside her head.

**_That’s right, little scavenger, run like the desert rat you are_.**

A sound of dismay escaped her lips, but she did run.

Her feet thundered down the hallway, only to come to a dead halt as a blast door slammed shut before her, barring her way.

Turning on her heel, she fled, and with her every breath becoming a panicked gasp, the reality of her situation quickly sunk in. She was like a rat in a trap - even her own mind had become a playground for her captor. She could _feel_ him now, lurking at the edge of her consciousness like a predator stalking through the dark. He was purposely setting alight everything that had taken place in the last few hours, sending the memories lashing through her mind to harrow her every step. The terror she had felt in that gloomy forest, his lightsaber flashing like a bleeding star; her pale reflection in his terrifying mask; his face, so vastly different from what she had ever expected, and somber eyes that pierced like-

“Stop it!”

The images continued in a fluid blur: a piercing headache sprang to life behind her eyes. She stumbled, a sharp pain shooting through her right knee when she collided with the tiles.

Bracing herself upon her palms, a snarl hissed between her bared teeth.

_Get. Out. Of. My. Head!_

Fleetingly, she swore she could see him scoffing in disdain, the phantom image ghosting through her mind like a dying light.

**_If you want me to stop – make me._ **

Disbelief washed through her. He truly was playing with her! Like a cat with a mouse, he was _toying_ with her before he would strike.

But something stirred inside of her at his challenge. In the interrogation chamber she’d managed to turn the tables on him - she'd managed to fight back when he'd been assured of his success. Now he was purposely provoking her, and she didn't know if she could guard her mind against his intrusions once more. Earlier, he’d been physically before her to focus all of her energy on, but right now she didn’t even know where he was, and there was no time to linger.

**_Go on. Make your futile attempt. I will find you either way._ **

A spark of indignation flared through her.

_We shall see._

Drawing a shuddering breath, Rey turned all of her attention inwards, reaching for the memory of earlier, when she was helpless before him, imprisoned in that chair. When he had pushed into her mind, and she had _pushed back_ -

Pushed back so hard she'd stepped straight into his consciousness, to witness his memories flickering through her like dappled light against closed eyes.

And now, recalling that sensation, that feeling that felt like bracing against an oncoming blow-

She gathered it up, sweat trickling down her forehead to drip upon the glossy floor, and _shoved_.

Instantly, his presence receded, but there was no thought to spare for her tiny victory as a sudden onslaught of fatigue drew a desperate gasp from her throat. Her head drooped forward, her arms quaking from exhaustion.

She struggled to her feet. Her steps were heavy, but she continued to make her way through the maze of corridors, senses straining as she listened for the thudding steps of Stormtroopers.

A moment too late, she realized she was no longer alone.

He came out of nowhere, a flash of black obscuring her sight. Gloved hands seized her shoulders and shoved her against the wall so hard her head slammed back, a firework of pain exploding in her skull. Her fingers uncurled from her blaster, the weapon clattering uselessly to the floor as her vision bloomed white, an anguished cry dying upon her lips.

A low growl reverberated through his chest, his grip shifting to her wrists to yank her limp body into a narrow hallway. And in one fluid motion, he pinned her arms above her head with such force that she could hear the leather of his glove strain against the hold.

As her vision swam into focus, she stared up into the umber eyes of Kylo Ren.

Those eyes that were immobilizing her as surely as his painful lock on her arms.

“Found you, little scavenger.”

All at once, she imagined she knew what drowning must feel like: he was no longer only the physical man before her – his presence surged through her mind, engulfing her like a choking shadow, drenching her entire being until he was drawing her in, deeper and deeper, and she _couldn’t breathe_ -

Her chest lurched, rising and falling rapidly in the small space between them, while she struggled against his merciless grip. But he hardly seemed fazed, studying her with a severe look.

“So fiery,” he murmured, his deep tone carrying a hint of perplexity. “You managed to escape your cell… and once more made an admirable attempt to expel me from your mind. I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

Rey narrowed her eyes into a defiant glare. Her lips opened, intending to demand that he let her go – but no sound was forthcoming. Brows twisting into a sharp frown, she realized that he was compelling her to remain quiet, like he’d compelled her body to remain frozen in place back in Takodana.

_Let me go!_ She hurled the words at him, but his only reaction was the slightest huff through his nose, and a twitch of his brow.

“Unfortunately, it seems that our previous encounter had not gone exactly as planned… This time, I _will_ get what I want.”

“Why?” she cried out, her flare of anger overriding his compulsion. Hazel eyes stared unwaveringly into his, as she hissed between her teeth, “So that you can kill Luke Skywalker like you did all the other Jedi, _Ben Solo_?”

A tense silence snapped between them, giving her just enough time to doubt the wisdom of challenging him.

Heartbeat throbbing in her throat, she watched as the fury swept across his features, the hatred eclipsing his eyes until their colour seemed as black as night. She _felt_ his animosity in the tightening of his grip on her wrists, and as he leaned forward, his looming presence made her feel smaller than she ever had in her entire life.

When he finally spoke, his low tone was laced with malice. “Don’t think, for a single moment, that I will hesitate to stab my lightsaber straight through your pitiful, golden heart. You’re an insignificant nobody. A single grain of sand in a world made of _dust_.”

He paused, only to clasp her chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“And you know _nothing_ about me.”

She stood trembling in his grasp, mouth going dry, face turning away from his as far as was possible against his fingers. Her heartbeat spiraled out of control, a wild thing beating against her ribs, beating at the mess of feelings rising in her chest. There was terror, twisting and violent – but there was something else as well. A taste of bitter sorrow; a swell of empathy.

No, maybe she didn’t know him – but she did know what she saw in those brief moments when their minds had connected. Memories of his that felt like her own _:_ aching loneliness, regret, longing for a place in this world, affection, recognition…

And she’d felt his fear. She’d felt his desperation for someone, anyone, to turn him from this path.

Beneath the mask, beneath the cloak of the monster, she’d found a shred of humanity.

The moment dragged on, marked by the dissonant fluttering of her pulse. Rey wondered if he could sense every single one of her tumultuous emotions, for they seemed entirely out of her control, slipping from her grasp like sand through her fingers.

_Perhaps not…_ she said, sending the words at him as she dared to meet his gaze. _But I know what it’s like to be alone._

The moment their eyes met, something sparked between them. Her heart staggered, and she knew he’d felt it too when his fingers loosened around her wrists. He drew a sharp, shivering inhale. A battle raged within his eyes, confusion clashing against a storm of enmity – but as the umbrage finally dissipated, it was replaced by an entirely different kind of dark.

A dark simultaneously more dangerous and electrifying.

His gaze flickered to her mouth, sending a paralyzing jolt down her spine when she realized just how close they were.

So close, she could see the feathered swoop of his long eyelashes.

Rey swallowed, hard, unable to keep her own gaze from mimicking his; unable to keep herself from noticing the alluring curve of his mouth.

His fingertips began to tremble against her chin. She could feel his uncertainty, his turmoil, and the taut chains of his self-control – but stronger still and bright like a sun, there was _longing_.

Above all, this was her undoing.

This time, when she tugged against his grip, she already knew he would release her arms the moment before his hand drifted down to settle just beneath her ribs. Like in a dream, her body of its own accord - she slowly reached up, eyes never wavering from his, to brush her fingertips against his cheek.

An indiscernible rush of emotions bloomed in his unguarded eyes. It struck her she had no idea what she was doing. Years of desolate isolation, self-doubt, and a yearning to be found, to be touched, to be _held_ \- all of it rose up in an instant, threatening to paralyze her where she stood.

But it was like instinct.

Like gravity.

They melted together; his hand slid down her waist to pull her against him and she arched into his touch, an overwhelming thrill quaking through her. A low hum of satisfaction rolled off of him, vibrating straight through her as his gloved fingers fanned over her exposed throat, drawing her mouth towards his. His warm breath spilled over her parted lips, and her breathing shuddered in response, her eyes drifting half-closed.

_You can come with me. Please come with me._

The incomprehensible, maddening yearning roared into a blazing desire so fast it was little wonder he recoiled as though he'd been burned.

Eyes flashing wide, he stared at her with that same horrified expression as after she’d seen his memories. It felt like a blow to the chest, like all the air had been knocked from her lungs, and all she could do was watch as seething anger obscured all traces of vulnerability.

He sharply turned his head away. “It’s much too late for that.”

His voice was raw, cutting to the bone. Rey crossed the distance between them, reaching for his wrist. “No, it’s not. It’s never too late to choose the right path-”

He wrenched away from her.

And then he laughed, a mirthless, bitter sound that engulfed her heart in ice.

With her hand trembling in the space between them, she whispered, “Please, Ben-“

“ _NO!_ ” The power of his anger filled the alcove, his very being seeming to smother the light around them. "I am Kylo Ren! I am the dark side! And this is exactly where I belong!”

Rey flinched. She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him that he belonged with his family, that he belonged anywhere but _here -_ but how could she, when she could not even understand why she felt that way? So she watched him him shake, his fists clenched at his sides, his rage flooding from him to crash against her in unrelenting waves.

“Now _leave_ ,” he sneered, voice strained with contempt. “Unless you wish to be taken to the Supreme Leader. And he will be far less merciful than I.”

A frown tugged at her brow. “What? You’re letting me go?”

He pinned her beneath his piercing glare.

"No," he murmured. "You can’t let something go that you never found.”

Then with a flare of his robes, he turned away from her, suspending her in the shattering moment. He was leaving, and she couldn't do anything to stop it, couldn't do anything to persuade him to come with her.

It made her heart ache in a way she couldn't even begin to understand.

“You’re afraid you’ll never be like your grandfather,” she said.

He stopped, but did not turn to face her. Swallowing hard, Rey pressed on. “But you don’t have to be like him. You’re you, Ben… You’re _you_. And that’s more than good enough.”

And then, she ran.

* * *

Kylo Ren remained motionless long after the girl’s footsteps had faded away. His eyes were closed, brow twisted, fists trembling at his sides. For despite her absence, he could sense her as vividly as if she were still standing at his side.

He knew exactly where she was, her spirit like a star on the horizon.

Even now, he was guiding her escape without her knowledge, ensuring no Stormtrooper or crewmember would find her. With subtle intent, he diverted their attention away from her, steering their footsteps like a chess player strategically moving his pieces across the board.

He was directly defying the orders of his Master.

And with every bit of power he possessed, he guarded the scavenger’s presence against Snoke, weaving the Force around her in a concealing shroud. His own mind he secured as well, hoisting up the strongest mental walls he had ever done in _years_. Not since he first came to the Supreme Leader – when he had still foolishly clung to the worthless notions of sentimentality, regret, sorrow _–_ had he felt the need to protect his mind with such fierceness.

But his Master would not be fooled for long. He would sense the barriers in his apprentice’s mind as he’d always done. And he would tear them down, with torture and heart-shattering agony, as he’d always done.

There would be grave repercussions.

Opening his eyes, Kylo Ren tried to take a single, deep breath – a breath he hoped would return his lucidity – but her scent still clung to him, and it stuck in his throat. He whirled, slamming his fists against the wall. A cry tore from his lips, the sound ripping through the hallway.

He could not fathom his own actions.

Against every instinct, against every ingrained reasoning, he was _protecting_ her. He was buying her more time to escape, fully realizing what the consequences would be for himself.

It was futile.

It was tearing him apart.

And it was all because of _her_.

He hated her.

Oh, how he hated her.

He hated her so much he was _sick_ with it. His body trembled with a feverish loathing he had never felt so strongly before. Not for his uncle, not for the Jedi. Not even for his father. And although her presence was drifting farther and farther away, her essence yet seared through him, turning every second into an unbearable torture that robbed him of all focus.

_Pathetic. Weak. She’s gone, fled as swift as her feet can carry her, and yet you allow her to overpower you like this._

This worthless girl was everything he'd ever fought against. Everything he despised. Insignificance, foolishness, a useless belief in the goodness in others. She was nothing, a _nobody_ , a mere scavenger with no name or family or meaning.

But as he stood, fists braced against the wall, one question kept pounding through his head:

If that was true, then why in the name of the dark side did he let her go?

Kylo Ren grit his teeth, chest heaving. As though the Force itself was taunting him, the memories of her rushed through his head with such intensity he could feel her against him once more; her fingers against his cheek, her warm breath against his lips, her blade-thin body arching into his touch, her gentle, doe-brown eyes, gazing up at him from beneath long lashes-

Looking at him in a way no one had ever looked at him in his entire life.

And so many years of longing spilling forth from her that he thought he might drown in her yearning.

All of it, for him.

_No. Impossible. Her ploy had been to trick me, to lure me back to the light…_

No other explanation could suffice when her very essence had felt like sunlight, like the breaking of a golden dawn across a sea of swaying grass.

Kylo Ren clamped his jaw against the maelstrom of emotions clawing their way through him, desperate to shove aside the power she somehow wielded over him.

He was stronger than this. He _needed_ to be stronger than this. But still the insecurity, the self-loathing, crushed him beneath their familiar weight. In his arrogance, it had been her apparent insignificance that had blinded him to how strongly the Force flowed through her. He should have known what she was capable of from the very second he’d laid eyes on her.

His Master’s lack of faith in him had become like an iron hand enclosing around his throat in a slow, choking grip that haunted his every waking moment.

And now, this mere slip of a girl was proving those doubts had _cause_.

For she'd made him careless. From the moment he’d gone after her in Tokadona he’d made one mistake after the other – failing to capture the droid when he’d had her; removing his mask to reveal himself to _her_ , when not even a handful of his own Order knew his appearance; leaving her alone in that cell after he’d discovered her true strength; in a moment of weakness, revealing to Snoke just a glimpse of how her abilities had frightened him…

She was strong. So much stronger than any Force-sensitive he’d ever encountered. But for a reason he could not fathom, she was unaware of the power in her veins. She had no idea what she was doing. Her command of the Force was crude and clumsy, with no technique whatsoever.

The mere fumbling of a child _._

Yet, somehow, she’d looked straight into the deepest part of him. A part he’d locked away so tightly he’d managed to fool himself into believing it no longer existed, nor mattered. She’d defended herself against him, shoved him out of her mind, fought back like the all-or-nothing survivor he’d seen in her memories.

And… she’d asked him to come with her.

His heart wrenched, fists trembling against the wall. As if it would be that _simple_. As if he could just walk away, turning his back on everything he’d built for himself, on his every sacrifice and years of unrelenting torture. On everything he’d needed to endure to get to this point.

On the blood staining his hands.

His forehead pressed against the cool panel of the wall, more forcefully than needed. All he could see was the misery blooming across her face when he’d screamed at her. Even now, all the way across the base, he could feel her heart aching-

_Damn her!_

As if he’d know how to be anything other than the very creature she’d called him to be!

As if he’d want to!

He breathed in.

_I am the dark side._

Unbidden, her melodious voice echoed through him, her earlier words stirring beneath his breastbone.

_‘You’re you, Ben.’_

He hadn’t heard that name in years - had spent all of his energy in destroying the foolish and weak man that he’d been _. Ben Solo_ would never have been able to live up to Darth Vader’s legacy. And she’d _dared_ to call him that, a name he’d buried in the dust.

As if she knew anything at all.

Slowly, Kylo Ren drew himself up, trembling fists lowering back down to his sides. He would need to rejoin the search for the scavenger.

They would not find her, of course.

For despite everything, he could not shake the feeling that she was the _light-_

And he was the moth, drawn to the flame.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving some feedback :)
> 
> Art for this story can be found [here.](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/tagged/ashes-of-eden)


	2. Instinct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter contains the lightsaber duel between Kylo Ren and Rey, but it’s not exactly the same as in the movie. It wasn’t intended as a word-for-word rewrite, but to further illustrate their growing connection. The story diverges from the movie’s plot at the end of their duel. 
> 
> For this chapter, I listened to Rey’s Theme. Religiously.

* * *

# 2

## Instinct

_My past has tasted bitter for years now,_

_So I wield an iron fist_

_Grace is just weakness_

_Or so I've been told._

_I've been cold, I've been merciless_

_But the blood on my hands scares me to death_

_Maybe I'm waking up today_

I’ll be good, Jaymes Young

* * *

Their lightsabers flashed like falling stars; red and blue, red and blue, vivid shades of crimson and indigo dancing across the snow. He was a cyclone of strength, his graceful blows raining down on her without pause, jarring through her arms to set every bone in her body shuddering. She was barely breathing, frantically blocking his every strike, adrenaline and panic and pain coursing through her blood.

They spun and danced, _collided_ –

Only to splinter apart once more.

She turned, ran, her boots crunching in the snow, and it was so cold it _burned_ like the desert sands of home. Her lightsaber cleaved effortlessly through a leaning pine, the falling trunk covering her a fleeting retreat.

Then-

A shower of sparks leapt through the air as their sabers met, setting the flurries of snowflakes aflame like swirling, silver embers.

She moved without thinking – block, strike, run – her mind caught on one single moment.

He’d killed Han Solo.

He’d killed his own father.

It was imprinted upon the backs of her eyelids, blurring through her head again and again as she braced against his unrelenting onslaught.

There was no words spoken through their connection now; no taunts or pleas. But their essences slammed against each other nonetheless in a battle unseen. A thousand shards of feelings crackled in a maelstrom of energy all around them, _through_ them, setting the very air of the frozen forest alive with its intensity.  With each crimson slash, with every cerulean arc, their minds clashed, rhapsodic emotions battering against each other like waves from opposing oceans.

_Contempt._

_Agony._

_Rage._

_Scorn._

_Sorrow._

His raven hair blew in wild tangles around his face, frost and snowflakes melting across his skin from the heat of his wicked lightsaber and the exertion of his injuries. As they spat apart, he would strike and beat at his wounded side, a trail of blood marking his every step. And his eyes; those same eyes that had drawn her in, those same eyes in which she’d glimpsed his humanity-

They burned like coals of wildfire.

She hardly recognized the man before her.

He was unhinged.

How could she possibly have believed there was still some good in him? Where was the vulnerable man who'd held her in his arms? The man who'd let her go? Misery wrenched through her, twisting her features in despair. In the end, the person she’d thought she’d found beneath the visor had only been another mask to conceal the true monster beneath.

She felt sick, guilt and horror racking through her chest.

Han was dead. Finn lay broken, somewhere in this arctic forest.

How many resistance fighters were losing their lives at this very moment?

All because of _him_.

The earth gave a mighty roar. A violent quake shook beneath their feet, flinging a cloud of snow-dust into the air and bringing trees toppling down. She was almost thrown off balance as the ground split apart, but he was relentless: his attacks were never-ending, as though he barely noticed the world crumbling down around them. Rey stumbled back, breath hitching, eyes fixed on that flare of red, only to suddenly find herself trapped on the edge of a gaping chasm.

Once more, their sabers clashed, casting them in a halo of flame and sky. He was pressing with all his might, looming over her as she inched dangerously closer to the edge - but she pressed back with everything she had, desperately trying to quell her panic.

Their eyes locked.

Her pulse nearly stopped.

“You need a teacher,” he snarled, the lightsabers reflecting like crescent moons within the dark depths of his eyes. “I can show you the ways of the Force.”

Rey stared at him, bewildered.

A teacher?

But she hadn’t wanted any part of this.

She hadn’t wanted the very lightsaber she now held in her grasp!

It had only been instinct – her will to survive this nightmare – that had made her reach for it.

“The Force…” she murmured, putting the pieces together as her eyes drifted shut. Could she extend her instincts once again? Could she lean into it, allow it to give her the strength she needed to do what she must?

When her eyes opened, they narrowed in determination.

She fluidly pivoted out of his reach, and struck at him with the full strength of the Force flowing through her. He fell back against the powerful blow, eyes widening with dread. His movements became sloppy - _desperate_ \- now that she was the one leading their lethal dance.

With her every attack, she felt as though something else was moving her body, driving her on, carrying her through from one blow to the next. It was not her own strength delivering each strike - it was the Force.

And she was _one_ with it.

In a swift advance, she cut through his robes to graze his left thigh, drawing a startled cry from him as he fell to his knees. Her heart pounded in her ears, her gaze fixed only him – seeing him in hyper-clarity, like everything was happening in slow motion. She stab her blade into the curve of his left shoulder, leaving a ring of embers in the singed material.

Kylo Ren stumbled back, his eyes spitting fire.

She felt his frenzied horror battering against her senses.

Then, with the will of a wounded predator, he lunged.

Rey was ready for him.

She parried his strike and kicked him hard in the chest, sending him crashing into the snow. Yet he refused to stay down, flying at her again, a savage growl ripping through his harsh breathing.  

He grabbed her wrists, locking them into a duel of physical strength. But the Force ebbed through her, pressing down to grind his lightsaber into the earth. A scream tore from him, a sound so raw and horrified that it rend through her core.

In a split second, she slashed through his crackling, untamed blade - and in a graceful blue arc, her weapon swooped back up to cut across his face.

He sprawled backwards, landing hard.

She felt the breath knock out of him.

Her own chest heaved, her hands shaking from exertion.

How had it come to this?

Boots crunching in the snow, Rey slowly stepped closer, her blood rushing in her ears.

Kylo Ren inched onto his elbows, staring up at her with such wild horror it brought her to a standstill. Those dark eyes were flashing with pain, their fierce intensity making it impossible for her to look away.

**_Finish it, scavenger. Finish what you’ve wanted to do from the moment we first met._ **

Rey’s fingertips clawed so tightly around the hilt of her blade her knuckles went white.

He lay defeated before her. One final blow and it would all be over – she could avenge Han, Finn, the Resistance…

But would his death fix what he had broken?

Could she live with the blood of Han Solo’s _son_ on her hands?

“Finish it!” he roared, the sound slicing through her despite the rumbling of the earth. “Take your revenge!”

In an anguished cry, she rose her blade above her head, her heart tearing itself apart.

_He is a monster. Kill him and be done with it!_

But she couldn’t move.

“I… can’t…” The murmur fell from her parted lips, her hands drifting back down to her sides as though in a daze.

Then the quake was upon them, swallowing the ground, the snow, the trees – too quick for her run. It broke the earth apart, a yawning abyss opening directly beneath her feet.

There was only a split second, a fleeting heartbeat, in which she saw his eyes go wide, his hand flinching towards her.

She fell.

And the world went dark.

* * *

He saw everything at once.

Her startled eyes.

The curve of her body as she fell.

The impact of her head against the edge of the chasm.

Heartrending panic surged through him, a single word tearing from his throat in a wave of instinct.

“NO!”

The thundering of the earth swallowed his cry, just like it was swallowing _her_. But he was already moving; half-crawling, half-stumbling through the snow-

His hand shot forward.

And the Force burst from him, in a desperate attempt to catch her.

For only a sliver of a moment, she was suspended in mid-air amongst rocks and debris continuing their tumble into oblivion, the tips of her fingers lingering against the hilt of her lightsaber.

He’d only needed that single moment.

His gloved hand seized her wrist the very second before gravity abruptly resumed. Then her sudden weight yanked him forward, almost sending him lurching over the edge as her slack frame collided harshly with the cliffside. He roared in pain, the strain lancing through his wounded side scattering stars across his vision.

Raging breaths panting through his bared teeth, his eyes flew open only to see the weapon had slipped from her grasp and was tumbling into the abyss. With no regard for his shoulder, his left arm thrust down, calling the lightsaber through the Force. Fortunately, this time, it flew effortlessly into his palm and he drew his arm back up to toss the weapon safely aside.

Her limp, unconscious form swayed slightly in his grasp, and his frenzied gaze flickered over the trickle of blood running from the nasty gash across her temple. She was out cold. If he hadn’t caught her, she would have fallen to her death.

The endless blackness beneath her feet clamped his throat shut, the image of his father slumping from the bridge mingling with the scavenger’s falling form-

His fingers clawed into her wrist with everything he had.  

Every fiber of him felt like fire; a potent fusion of adrenaline and suffering coursing through his veins. Brow warping, he grit his teeth, positioning his left palm to press against the ground. His shoulder screamed in agony, but he drew upon his torment, melding it with every overwhelming emotion raging through him to fuel his remaining strength.

A drop of his sweat dripped down, falling upon her exposed throat.

He pulled.

And turned blind, the pain stealing his vision away as his roar echoed through the gorge. But he didn't relent, he didn't stop, not for a single breath. There was no time. The earth was still shaking, bits of debris breaking loose from all around the cliffside. He needed to get her out of there _now_.

Through the haze, he focused on the blood rushing down her temple.

It spurred him on.

As soon as he’d pulled her up high enough, he once again reached down with his left hand to grab her other arm. Then with one final monstrous effort, he dragged her body over the edge, her slender frame collapsing across the snow.

Every part of him was shaking, vibrating with agony, fatigue, adrenaline. Chest heaving, he hovered over her, stunned now that she was safe. With a gentleness he wasn't able to defy, he clasped her chin, tilting her head slightly to take a look at the wound. It was bleeding badly, but he could feel her life-force pulsing. He grabbed a handful of snow and pressed it against her temple, hoping to minimize the bleeding.

For the moment, she would be fine.

If he could get them both out of there alive.

Turning his gaze aside he spotted his lightsaber lying abandoned in the snow. His lip curled into a sneer as he picked it up, fighting down the anger that rose up within him – she’d done extensive damage to the blade, perhaps even the crystal itself, but there was no time to be angry at her now. He swiftly gathered the silver lightsaber as well; the one that was rightfully his, the one she should have thrust straight through his treacherous heart.

His gaze slipped back to her lifeless form; the shallow rise and fall of her chest, the shivering of her body even in her unconscious state.

Reaching over, he tucked the saber securely into her belt.  

Then he gathered her wiry frame against his chest and scooped her up, gritting his teeth as he swayed to his feet. He fleetingly recalled when he’d first held her like this, what a fragile thing he’d thought her to be.

How completely wrong he’d been.

Casting out his mind like a fishing net, he tried to grasp onto anything that could be of help to them. They needed to get out of there. He didn’t care how, or where he was taking them. There was no plan guiding his steps, no reasoning or thought.

Only instinct.

An undeniable impulse he could not refuse.

It didn’t take long to a sense an abandoned TIE fighter, not too far from their location. From what he could determine it had taken a grazing hit, yet the pilot seemed to have managed to land without extensive damage to the ship itself.

Kylo Ren began trudging in that direction, clutching her tighter with every harrowing step. It was not that far, but the snow and the shaking earth and the pain was all working against him. And despite her yet weighing as much as a feather, this time, it was proving far more difficult to carry her.

He did not try to analyze his actions. There would be no point. He felt too detached from it all, as though _she_ were in fact the one directing him like a marionette.

How could he be so helpless against a mere girl? A girl who was at his mercy in his arms?

He could leave her behind.

He could leave her behind and be assured of her death.

Yet he waded on, and gazed down at her expressionless face; at her feathery lashes, the constellation of freckles across her nose and cheekbones. A soft moan escaped her lips, her questing fingers clutching into his cloak as she buried her face deeper into his chest.

Lips curling in a sneer, he drew her fingers away, trying to ignore the sharp tug of his heart.  

Stumbling into a small clearing, he spotted the TIE fighter with its smoking hull. He hurried towards it and reached out his senses in earnest, quickly determining the ship's condition. The most extensive damage was to the hyperdrive’s cooling system. The turrets and shield systems had also taken a bad hit, which was probably why the fighter had been abandoned. But though it was battered and bruised, Kylo Ren had no doubts that he’d be able to fly it, if only to get them out of the immediate danger’s way.

The pain in his ribs was proving itself to be a nuisance as he struggled to get them both into the ship, but when they were finally inside he deposited her in the gunner’s seat, lingering only a moment as another soft moan escaped her lips. Then he turned away, and took the pilot’s seat.

As the ship whooshed to life, a semblance of a plan began to take shape in his mind.

The hyperdrive just needed to last long enough to get them as far away from this forsaken planet as possible.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please consider leaving some feedback! :)


	3. Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Please note:** although I always do my research to the best of my abilities, nothing in this chapter or the entirety of this story could be considered medically accurate.
> 
>  **Warnings:** mentions of blood; descriptions of wounds

* * *

# 3

## Tempest

_You take the breath right out of me._

_You left a hole where my heart should be._

_You got to fight just to make it through,_

_'cause I will be the death of you._

Breath, Breaking Benjamin

* * *

Rey jerked awake, her whole being screaming in pain.

It shot through her midriff, a pain so severe she thought it would split her apart. Back arching in an uncontrollable spasm, she grit her teeth, but failed to bite back a scream that tore through her chapped lips and rang in her ears. To the sound of her ragged gasps, the agony bloomed outwards, cleaving through her chest to spike through her left shoulder. And then it lanced through her skull, a burning fire that drew her hands up in a frenzy as she held her face, fingertips pressing, pressing, deliriously hoping to make it stop-

She blacked out.

It may have been minutes, or it may have been hours that she drifted, limp and numb. When she finally came to, long lashes fluttering, her vision danced with white spots.

It took several moments for her to realize that the pain had receded to a dull, faraway ache.

And in its absence, a vague, indecipherable dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

Somehow, she knew there was _something_ she needed to do, without having any concrete idea what it was. It was this feeling that made her drag herself upright in her seat, despite every single muscle screaming in protest.  

Casting her unsteady gaze at her surroundings, she only now took in where she was: a compact, spherical space, half-sitting in a chair, a control panel spread out before her.

_Is this… a TIE fighter?_

Heartbeat thrumming against her ribs, Rey swayed to her feet, keeping a hand clutching the back of her chair. With wide, alert eyes, she turned – to find she was alone, no one occupying the pilot’s seat.

The last thing she remembered was _him_.

She’d stood over him, her lightsaber meant for his heart.

And then, the earth had opened up beneath her feet.

Everything had gone black.

_How did I get here? Did he…?_

Her brow furrowed as she tried to put the pieces together. It couldn’t possibly mean what she thought… Could it?

_No. The others. Finn. Chewbacca. Someone… someone must have…_

From above her head, there was the low howl of the wind. She glanced up, glimpsing the sky through the opened latch-door.

Suddenly, another wave of phantom pain washed through her, sending her crashing to her knees. She gasped. It was so strong, so real, that she had to inspect her side with her fingertips, had to check her shoulder, her thigh, to assure herself these injuries were not truly there. The only wound she could find upon herself was a gash across her temple, with streaks of sticky blood drying along her cheek.

Then, she knew.

It _was_ him. She was feeling _his_ pain.

With all the energy she could muster she forced the overwhelming sensations aside, though they did not entirely fade. She fought against the darkness looming at the edge of her vision, and carefully climbed out of the ship.

As her boots landed with a soft thud in the grass, the cold stabbed straight through her.

A gasp flew from her lips, lost to the icy wind, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a vain effort for warmth.

Tangles of her unkempt hair blew across her eyes, her hand darting up to sweep them away as she turned. She found herself standing in a vast dale cast in pale twilight; a windswept landscape of knee-high grass sprawled all around her, flanked by gentle, rocky hills at one end and a quarry at the other. It's depths were filled with water and the mounds of stone and rock carved from its belly was overgrown with grass. Silent mining machines stood rusting in the open, unsheltered from the elements, their purposes long lost. A short distance from the edge, there was a warehouse, bordered by several sleek, flat-roofed buildings.

There was no sign of anyone. In fact, the whole area seemed to have been abandoned quite some time ago.

Rey squinted against the wind, searching for a flash of black...

And then, barely a few paces into the grass, she saw the blood.

In an instant, she was moving. Her heart pounded in her throat, all sense of the cold forgotten as she raced across the field, following the bloody trail towards the cluster of modular buildings.

The moment she rounded the first, she stopped.

There he was, sprawled on his side across the stairs leading up to one of the dwellings, one arm wrapped tightly around his ribs, the other reaching towards the door. His face was obscured by his untamed hair, the breeze plucking at the unruly, dark locks.

She stood frozen in place, the wind chilling her to the bone.

It all came back, all at once.

He'd killed Han.

He'd broken Finn.

Rey turned her face away, eyes squeezing shut, mouth twisting in misery.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

_He saved me... but why?  
_

He could have let her fall. The earth would have swallowed her whole.

He could have let her die.

Her legs gave way beneath her. She sunk to her knees, bracing onto her palms, the grief and anxiety of the last few days hitting her like a blow to the chest. Her throat clamped shut, her lips pressing together as tears spilled from her closed eyes.

Even now, at the back of her mind, she felt the ghost of his agony.

Her fingers clawed into the grass.

In that moment when she’d had the chance to kill him, the chance to end his monstrous deeds, she hadn't been able to go through with it. _  
_

What did that say about her?

_I never asked for any of this…_

It would be so easy to leave him on those stairs. Too easy. He would bleed to death without her having to lift a finger against him. Then she wouldn’t have to be the one to deal the final blow – she wouldn’t have his blood on her hands…

A sob cut through her throat. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, yet it did nothing to stop the tears.

All around them, the world was darkening. The wind blew harder, whipping through her hair and slicing sharper than steel.

Rey’s gaze drifted up to stare at his motionless form. Drawing her knees against her chest, she clenched her jaw against her clattering teeth, her entire body shivering, though perhaps not only from the cold.

And as she watched his blood spill onto the stairs, she slowly came to know that she could not let him die. A part of her argued that she had no idea where she was and she’d need his help. But it was more than that. Despite the monster he was, despite the horrible things he'd done, she could not sit there, doing _nothing_ , feeling his every injury as though they were her own, and pretend to be heartless.

She tried not to think about the fact that most of his wounds were her doing.

She tried not to think about their profound connection, and why it seemed to be growing stronger with their every encounter.

She tried not to think about _any_ of it.

Rey dragged herself to her feet and went to crouch on the metal stairs beside him. Her gaze flew over his battered body. He was unconscious, and bleeding badly from the side Chewbacca had shot him, the blood _drip-dripping_ steadily upon the stairs.

Swallowing hard, she gathered her nerve and reached out to gently brush the hair from his face.

The vivid slash across his sickly pale skin stood out like blood upon the snow.

Her heart swelled, pressing against her ribs as though it would burst from a too-large ache she could not understand. _This is my doing._ Drawing a shuddering breath, she angrily swiped the back of her hand across her eyes to wipe away the fresh gleam of tears.

She felt sick to her very core.

If he died, it would be her fault.

_He can’t die. He can’t._

Glancing up, she noticed the door to the dwelling was already open. She did not pause to ask herself all the questions she should have. They would come later, to gnaw at her when there was no urgent task that needed her attention. Right now, her first priority was getting both of them out of the cold.

Turning her eyes back to him, she wondered how in oblivion she was going to move him. He was far too big and too heavy for her to lift… She’d need to drag him up the stairs, but that would worsen his wounds.

Her lips thinned in a tight line. _I don’t have much of a choice._

Slowly, Rey lowered herself beside him, dipping an arm between the spaces of the stairs to wrap it around his back.

“ _Don’t_ … touch me, _scavenger_ ,” he hissed, right next to her ear.

Startled, she jerked away, wide gaze flying down to his face.

He was awake, though barely, and more than like every drop of his energy went into the glare he was leveling straight at her.

Despite the rapid lilt of her heart, she refused to be deterred. Her gaze hardened. “Then how do you propose I get you inside? Or would you prefer to die out here in the cold?”

He managed to scoff as though he were the one looking down upon her.

“Considering you’re partly to blame for my current state,” Kylo Ren bit out, eyes flickering shut, “I can’t imagine why you’d care.”

The wind stirred his hair, the dark strands dancing across his brow.

She turned her face away, mumbling a native Jakku curse beneath her breath as she shoved down every tumultuous emotion in a vain hope to contain them.

“Charming,” he groaned, the word barely audible. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he dragged his hand closer, to brace his palm against the stair. With some effort, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, a new sheen of a sweat breaking out across his brow.

Frowning, Rey suddenly recalled how he’d put her to sleep in Takodana, and perhaps she could somehow-

“ _Don’t_ , even try.”

She blanched.

His feverish gaze swiveled to hers, giving her a puzzled look, as though something had just occurred to him. “You really are far too ambitious for your own damn good.”

Perhaps she should have been bewildered by the statement, but in his venomous tone she noticed something else, something that made her more anxious than the fierceness in his eyes.

His breathing was becoming uneven and raspy, every inhale sounding like an effort.

He needed help.

Badly.

Yet all he had was her.

Dipping his raven head, Kylo Ren momentarily released his ribs to reach for the railing in an attempt to pull himself up. Without thought, Rey leaned closer and wrapped her arm around his back, already reaching for his other arm.

His body went ridged.

When he turned to face her, they were suddenly so close their noses almost touched.

Somehow she quelled her impulse to flinch away.

“Try to fight me off and we’ll see how far that gets you,” she said.

“Keep challenging me,” he growled in response, his warm breath feathering across her cheek. “And you won’t live to regret it.”

Frustration cut across her face, her eyes staring imploringly into his. “Neither will you, if you won’t let me _help_ you.”

Her words were met with the same unyielding hostility, but she refused to buckle under his glare.

 _Please,_ she thought at him.

When he finally looked away, the rigidity flowed out of him, and she released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Inching closer, Rey ducked beneath his arm and carefully hooked it over her shoulders, letting her fingers settle around his wrist.

"Ready?" she asked.

He grunted, which she took as a yes.

Jaw clenching, she began to straighten, slowly drawing him up with her. He barely made a sound, but from the renewed spike of his pain cutting through her, she knew he was struggling. When they were on their feet, she paused, giving them both a moment to regain their equilibrium.

His glove audibly strained against his wrenching grip upon the railing. Rey swallowed hard, her thumb tracing circles against his wrist. She positioned herself against him, finding that her shoulder fit comfortably beneath his arm. It was impossible not to notice his sheer size – not only was he so much taller than her, but his shoulders were broad, his arms solid with toned muscle. She felt _dwarfed_ against him, exactly as she had when he’d loomed over her in that hallway back on Starkiller Base…

Trying to ignore that particular memory was proving to be challenging when they were standing so close. She was pressing into him as firmly as she could without further aggravating any of his injuries; her right hand curled around the back of his belt, while her left now firmly clasped his forearm.

But he was leaning away from her, favouring his right side and putting his weight on the railing instead of her.

“Lean against me,” she said, her voice husky with concern. His only response was a huff through his nose, but she watched, almost entranced, as his fingers uncurled from the railing.

And slowly, he leaned into her.

Her pulse staggered.

Gritting her teeth, Rey carefully began directing their movement. The three stairs leading to the door suddenly seemed more like a thousand, but she’d be damned if she didn’t help him get there.

_One step at a time._

Bearing as much of his weight as she could, she shifted forward. He was heavy, no longer possessing any of the free-flowing grace that had directed his movements during their battle. And his breathing was loud, rasping with strain.

“You’re shivering,” he murmured, right against her hair. She stopped, something fluttering through her chest. The words had been simply spoken, as though remarking upon the weather, but it twisted her insides into knots. If he was starting to speak without thought of what he was saying…

“Yes, well, it’s cold,” she said.

He was warm against her - _too_ warm, like a white-hot fire.

And his blood was soaking her side.

It spurred her on, her grip tightening around him as they finally took the last step and came through the doorway. Her gaze swept over the interior. It was a small kitchen; sleek cupboards lined the wall and a table with two chairs sat beneath a large window. There was a hallway to the side, and Rey led him there, hoping to find a place where he could lie down. She spotted a bedroom at the end, and they passed another two doors on their way.

Step by agonizing step, they finally reached the bed. He’d been almost entirely leaning on her, so it was with a small measure of relief and a swell of urgency that she helped him lie down. His breathing came in harsh wheezes and she had to clench her teeth against the pain rolling off of him. It made her head swim, but she had the vague suspicion she was only feeling the edge of it, like holding one’s hand close enough to feel the heat of the flame, but not close enough to burn.

Stepping away from him to catch her breath, Rey looked down to her side, catching sight of the crimson splotches soaking her garb. Swallowing hard, her eyes squeezed shut; an inhale shook through her crackled lips before she glanced down at him.

He was staring up at her, his arm once again wrapped around his ribcage.

“You should go,” he bit out. “Take the fighter and leave.”

She barely heard him.

All she could see was the feverish shivers racking his body. The sweat across his brow. The blood dripping onto the covers.

A frown twisted her features and Rey shook her head. “I’m not leaving you here.”

Yet if he’d heard her speak, or understood her answer, he gave no indication. His head tipped back, labored breaths broken by groans of pain.

Gathering her bearings, Rey steeled herself for what lay ahead: to help him, she’d need to undress him.

At the very least, he was too delirious to take any note of what she was doing.

Which might make things a tad easier.

For both of them.

With a deep breath, she began by unwrapping his cloak from his broad shoulders. He was heavy, and her fingers were shaking and she didn't want to touch him any more than she already did. But she had to, if she wanted to save him. Another tug, and the cloak came free, yet not without a wince from her when some of the singed material separated from his shoulder. Then, before her courage could fail her, she unclasped the belt at his middle. Her heart pounded dizzyingly fast, sparking a fervent urgency in her veins that grew fiercer with every second. It overwhelmed everything else, suppressing her fear, her awkwardness, her guilt.

She stripped him down to his underwear, and the full extent of his injuries was a sickening blow to the chest. His side was torn apart, terrifying burns flaring over the entire left side of his ribcage. Large patches of his skin was raw and bleeding, and the smell of blood and singed flesh was almost overpowering. Horrified, her shaking hands fluttered to her mouth, leaving smears of his blood on her cheeks as she wondered,

_How will I save him? He's going to die - I'm all he's got, and there's no way I can help him through this-_

Without conscious thought, Rey stumbled into the hallway towards the doors they’d passed earlier, knowing only she needed to find some sort of medicine. 

The first door led to a small office; a computer was stationed on a sleek desk and the wall-shelves were filled with data-tapes - but neither the drawers nor the shelves contained anything of use. The second door revealed a tiny, neat bathroom. A shower took up the entire right side, and to the left, there was a cabinet with a wash basin. She slid open its door and immediately spotted what she’d hoped to find – a medpac. She'd found abandoned ones during her scavenging before, but judging from its weight, this one was still filled with all of its medicines.

She rushed back to the bedroom, and all but crashed onto her knees beside the bed. The medpac's contents was overwhelming: her wide eyes flickered over medicines and equipment and an arrangement of bandages, none of which she recognized. None of which she knew how to use. Her medical knowledge was basic at best, and for a moment it froze her in frustrated terror.

Then her gaze fell on the antiseptic cleaning pads, and a memory clicked in her mind.

Swallowing hard, Rey picked up the pad, and with a shuddering breath she set to work.

The process was a terrifying one, yet her shaking fingers worked swiftly to clean his wounds. Her entire body was shaking, but she held firm, focusing on the solidness of him beneath her hands, in order to reign back her shattering thoughts and the shards of his agony. By the time he was fully bandaged, she was covered in his blood and shaking with exertion. She braced herself on her palms, head drooping forward as she breathed. Her arms shook. Her mind was reeling.

And then the bizarre realization came.

She’d never – ever – been in this type of situation before. She’d never taken care of anyone before, because there had never been anyone to take care _of_.

But she wasn’t quite done yet. There was one last injury requiring her care; the one she dreaded most of all.  

She sat down on the bed beside him. Her trembles grew worse as her fingertips reached for his pale face, gently brushing his matted hair from his forehead to reveal the laceration her lightsaber had left. It slashed down from between his dark brows, across his nose, all the way to his jaw.

Her throat locked, eyes squeezing shut against the threatening sting of tears.

She’d been in battles before, if she could call them that. On Jakku, she’d had to learn to defend herself - but neither she nor her opponents had ever stepped away so severely injured.

And now? Here she was nursing the man she’d almost killed.

A breath wrenched through her dry lips, and as she tended to this last wound, she wondered how she could possibly have done such a thing.

It would leave a terrible scar.  

_Remember who he is Rey. Remember what he’s done._

But looking down at his shivering form, he seemed so much less a monster and so much more a broken man.

When she was done, she came to her feet. She found a couple of blankets in the cupboard. Rey draped them over him, arranging it across his legs before reaching up to cover his shoulders.

As she was about to pull away, wondering which of the multitude of medicines would help for his pain, he grabbed her wrist. A sharp gasp flew from her lips, her body going stock-still as she stared down at him.

There was fever in his fiery eyes, gleaming through the intensity.

But there was something else too.

His lips parted, a sound shuddering through his teeth.

She only had a brief moment to realize what he’d said, before he tugged her down towards him.

 _Stay_.

Her mind spun and reeled as she crashed into his chest with a yelp of surprise. “Ben, what are you-“

With more strength than such an injured man should possess, his hands fanned around her waist, and she felt his touch so acutely she swore it would leave imprints upon her skin. Rey tried to scramble away with a squeak of protest, but before she could escape, he turned on his side and pulled her in so that her back came snugly to rest against his chest. His arms wrapped firmly around her middle, her heart all but bursting from her ribs.

And something pulsed off of him.

That same emotion she’d felt from him in Starkiller Base.

It wasn’t quite desire.

It was _longing_.

Barely breathing, her eyes squeezed shut, aware of every single inch of where his skin was pressing against hers. His powerful frame, even broken and bruised, somehow enveloped her in a feeling she couldn’t name.

Or, perhaps, dared not to.

Yet it was that feeling that caused her to turn around in his embrace, until her nose brushed against his chin.

His lashes were wet with tears.

A deep pang of sorrow twisted through her. Suspended in that ache, she was stunned into watching a tear streak down across his cheek, before it embraced his lips.

There was no thought to her movement, only an undeniable need to take away his agony. With a gentle caress of her thumb, she swiped across the rivulet. Her fingertips trailed down his jaw, her throat growing tight.

Umber eyes fluttering open, he looked at her with so much naked anguish that it stole her breath away. “What have I done? I had no choice… I can’t…”

“Shh,” she murmured. “It’s alright.”

His eyes fell shut again, forehead coming to rest against hers.

She blinked away tears of her own.

_Keep yourself together, Rey._

Perhaps she should have let him suffer for the path he’d chosen. Perhaps she should have abandoned him at that very moment… But his fear and agony and regret all made a potent mix from which she was too exhausted to guard or extract herself.

Somehow, she could not bear the thought of leaving him now.

And then, as her eyes drifted shut, she began to hum.

It was a tune she’d always known, a melody she would sing to herself when life became too much for one lonely scavenger. Right now, it came as naturally as it always had. Slow and steady it began, like the gentle rhythm of a peaceful heartbeat... yet every murmur of her voice was tinged with melancholy, telling a story of words she did not know, but had imagined so many thousands of times. But despite the sadness inherent in every element of the melody, it eventually flowed into something else.

Hope. Remembrance.

Once, it may have been a song of love lost, or love found. It may have been a lullaby. She knew not. All that mattered was that it had always brought her comfort, even during her darkest, loneliest nights.

And as she'd hoped, it gradually brought a sense of calm to them both.

A lull, in the eye of the tempest.  

In his pain-induced fever, Kylo Ren leaned into her, burying his face in her hair as his arms tightened around her waist. The tenderness of his touch tightened her chest, but she tried to ignore how he felt against her, tried to ignore the bizarre rhythm of her heartbeat.

Until, her name fell in a soft breath from his lips.

Her song fell silent.

“Rey…” he murmured into her hair. With a tilt of his head, his nose brushed against her throat, and she swore her pulse stopped.

She reached for the song once more, and felt him go still beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read an article the other day in which John Boyega said that Finn and Rey are only friends, and that the romance in the next movie will be handled far different from what people expect. Of course my Reylo-shipping heart almost burst from happiness! I guess I am hoping for something that’s never going to happen – but to all you lovely Reylo shippers, can you guys imagine how amazing it would be if they actually followed a romance between Kylo Ren and Rey in the movies? I could die happy if that happened.
> 
> To everyone who has been reading and supporting this fanfic, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. It is the best feeling to know that my stories are being enjoyed! As always, thank you for reading, and please leave some feedback if you're enjoying this story so far!


	4. Free fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who has been reading, reviewing, commenting, giving kudos and just generally being encouraging – you guys are CRAZY AMAZING and I love you to bits. And special thanks to my boyfriend who is both my sounding board and my beta-reader :) 
> 
> I worked really hard on this chapter and I hope you guys like it! 
> 
> **Song:** [Divenire by Ludovico Einaudi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCGvZCbcE0Q)

* * *

# 4

## Free fall

_Four winds and I'm alone_

_My notes without fortune_

_Let her still sleep_

_Let her die first_

_This soul without love_

Nuvole Bianche, Ludovico Einaudi

* * *

There was very little rest for Rey that night. She drifted somewhere between wakefulness and nightmares, stirring every few minutes to assure herself that he was still breathing. Throughout the endless hours, he tossed and turned in pain and delirium, and his feverish heat became almost unbearable. Yet outside of their warm cocoon it was icily cold, the wind howling through the front door that she’d forgotten to close.

She stayed, and if during the darkness she reached for his hand, she told herself it was more for his sake than her own.

 _I’m here, Ben…_ she thought at him, the words dreamily tugging at something deep inside. _Don’t let go._

But exhaustion must have claimed her at some point, for when she opened her eyes there was sunlight spilling through the half-drawn blinds.

Rey lurched awake, cursing herself for falling asleep during her vigil, and immediately turned to face him–

To find that, finally, after a harrowing night, he was sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling with breaths that no longer rasped. Her senses weren’t being assaulted by his pain anymore, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t suffering. She had no idea how this bizarre connection between them worked - if it was a constant thing or something that would fade, but she would take the dimming of this particular sensation as a good sign.

Still, she reached for his forehead. Beneath her palm, his skin was warm, but nowhere near the height of fever.

The profound relief staggered her into a breathless laugh. She smiled, her fingertips trailing a caress down his temple.

And then, a heartbeat later, her overwhelming relief was crushed by sickening guilt. How could she could feel like this about a man who had tried to kill her, after murdering his own father?

Rey’s hand flinched back, her fist pressing against her chest as her eyes squeezed shut.

An inhale snagged in her throat.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed. The second her feet touched the floor, she ran. Ran out of the strange house and into the field, ran and ran and ran, letting the wind scatter her thoughts into the clear, cold sky.

* * *

This place was very green. And the sun was butter-soft, not at all like the scorching heat of home. It might have been nice, if she wasn’t exhausted beyond belief and the ever-blowing wind didn’t weave its cold, stinging fingers through her blood-soaked clothing.

When fatigue caught up with her, Rey sank to her knees in the tall grass, finding the wind was bearable once she was tucked in the greenery. She laid onto her back, and then it was only her - her and her green wall and the brilliant, azure sky.

Her fingertips brushed against the grass stalks as a flock of birds flew by overhead.

She was so used to the infinite dunes of home. Being cloaked in this field sparked a moment of childlike joy; a soft smile that eased a tiny bit of the grief.

No one would ever be able to find her here.

Which was such a strange thing to think, when for all her life, all she’d ever wanted was to be found.

In some way, that wish had come true. Not by the family she’d always hoped would come back for her, but by a young man who had cared to ask if she was alright, who had come after her when she was captured, who had defended her with his life.

Who had been brave, and funny, and _kind_.

_Oh, Finn._

The sky was so very blue, and so far away, and how much farther was she now from him? Where in that infinite expanse would she find him when her own location was still a mystery to her? If only she could know for certain that he was okay – that he had survived his wounds; the crumbling of the planet...

_You have to be alright, my friend. You have to._

Rey turned away from the sky, no longer able to bear its vastness, but as she shifted onto her side, something pressed into her hip. Her fingers reached down to find  smooth, cold metal.

Bewildered, she snatched it from her belt, sitting up in the grass as she stared down at the lightsaber.  

Why hadn’t _he_ taken it? Why had he tucked it into her belt? Maz Kanata had said it once belonged to Luke Skywalker - and if that was true, then he must have known! He’d been trying to claim it when, instead, the weapon had flown to her hand.

She should never have touched the blasted thing! Since the very moment those disturbing visions had flashed through her head, _everything_ had gone wrong. The attack, getting separated from Finn, being captured, and–

 _Han_.

If they hadn’t come back for her… Would Han Solo have met his death at the hands of his son?

Her grip tightened, shaking.

She didn’t want this damned lightsaber!

She didn’t want to _care!_

She wanted to go back home, feel the sand beneath her feet, the blistering sun on her skin. She wanted her quarterstaff, her collection of parts and trinkets she’d been stowing away – she wanted the sky that was a washed-out blue during the day but came alive at night, a sky that was dusted with as many stars as there were grains of sand in the desert.

Perhaps she really was better off alone.

Scowling, Rey was tempted to throw the cursed weapon into the field where it would never be found again. She did not understand! Until she’d met Finn, all of this – the Jedi, the Force, the dark side and the light – it seemed like a far-off myth that had nothing to do with her. She’d never cared about anything other than taking each day as it came, each day that would bring her closer to the family she'd always dreamed of.

For so many years, she’d never cared about anyone other than herself.

But now, here she was, free falling into a fight that wasn’t hers and everything was happening too fast after a lifetime of waiting.

Shuddering, she hugged her legs against her chest, curling into a ball with the saber clutched to her ribs.

Not _all_ of it was entirely sudden, though... There had been instances in her life which made her believe she always had an uncanny amount luck on her side. A fall that should have meant her death was suddenly stopped by a cable jumping into her hand in the nick of time. In her most desperate moments, she’d been able to persuade others into deals they perhaps would not normally have made. Another pilot had once told her that she had lightning reflexes - reflexes that enabled her to do stunts few others would dare.

Had the Force always been there, and she’d simply never known what it was?

Had it never been _luck_ , but a real, raw power, lying all but dormant inside of her?

Dormant and quiet, until that moment in that interrogation room, when a destructive, broken man had reached into her mind…

And awoke it for the first time.

* * *

When his nightmares cleared, he dreamed of sunlight.

Sunlight on a sea of swaying grass, and trees that stirred in the wind, their boughs laced with blossoms.

A soft, almost-familiar melody drifted through the air, luring him closer… stirring the scene to one of nostalgia.

_I’m here, Ben…_

Kylo Ren’s eyes snapped open.

And he slammed into the full weight of his agony.

Gasping, his chest rose and fell in rapid, agonizing heaves. He frantically opened his mind to lean into the pain like he’d been trained, to embrace it rather than resist it, but it was a challenge, and took longer than he'd have liked. His consciousness felt frayed, sprawled too freely in shredded tangles for him to reign back in and command to its full potential.

Disoriented, he minutely raised his head, taking in several things at once. He was lying upon a bed in a small, sparsely decorated room. His clothing was piled across a chair, discarded. There were bandages wrapped around his chest, shoulder and thigh…

And _she_ was gone.

A choking moment of panic clamped his throat shut. His mind scrambled, harrowed by exhaustion and agony and–

 _There_.

She was outside.

Entirely too far away for him to be able reach her in time, if anything were to go wrong.

Did she have absolutely no idea of the danger?  

Unreasonable fury – at her, at himself, at _everything –_ eclipsed his sudden terror, almost uncontrollable in his current state. He could only hope that it wasn’t too late – that neither Snoke nor anyone else had discovered them whilst he slept. He grit his teeth, a new sheen of sweat gleaming upon his forehead as he expanded his mind, hoisting up a mental barrier around their location and ensuring the scavenger was within its bounds.

_I’d told her to leave…_

At first it was an unstable, battered thing, almost shattering as his control slipped - but at least his pain could be put to good use now, as he drew upon it to fuel the Force and stabilize the barrier.

_And yet she’d stayed._

As soon as it snapped into place, his vision swam, exhaustion all but dragging him back into oblivion. It would leech every bit of his strength to keep the shroud-barrier in place, but it was necessary to conceal them from being found through the Force. Hopefully, for now, it would be enough.

He could not risk them being found yet.

Not yet.

Not when he didn't-

Catching his breath, he could sense her drawing closer.

Her brightness made him feel sick.

Trying to sit up turned out be an excruciating experience, one he was relieved to be alone for. Shards of pain splintered through his chest, constantly hindering his breathing – breathe too deep, it felt as though his ribs would shatter, breathe too shallow and he was certain he would pass out. When he had finally managed to drag himself up against the headboard, the room was spinning.

His fingertips reached up to the slash across his face. He winced. Each tiny expression caused it to send painful stabs through his skull, where a fierce headache was already pounding away at his sanity.

Suddenly, his attention was drawn back to the girl. She had changed course – instead of coming back, she was heading towards the TIE fighter.

And that same panic from minutes earlier threatened to choke him once more–

_No._

He'd told her to go. What did he care if she decided to do just that?

Tired eyes drifted down to his bandages, to the medical supplies upon the floor…

The bed, in which he had clearly not slept alone.  

_Stupid, foolish, stubborn girl._

He hadn’t wanted to be saved.

Shifting his feet across the edge of the bed and standing up was a challenge all on its own, as was pulling on his trousers. But as Kylo Ren stumbled through the hallway, right arm wrapped tightly around his bandaged chest, all he could think about was a sweet, humming voice, and a warm hand gripping his.

Things no monster should ever be worthy of.

* * *

After Rey had come to her feet, lightsaber once again tucked into her belt, she found a road leading towards the rocky peaks in the distance. At least, she suspected it was once a road - it was mostly overgrown now, like everything else around here. It made her wonder if it still led anywhere at all. 

And yet she could not say for how long she stood there, fists clenched at her sides, willing herself to follow its tracks.

She was not afraid to follow it.

Rather, she was afraid of the reason why her legs had not yet moved a single step in its direction.

The same reason why she hadn’t been able to take the TIE fighter, even when he’d told her to.

She ached just thinking about him.

Ached for too many reasons that was fair or sensible.

From the very moment he’d first removed his mask, she’d felt drawn to him. Perhaps in part because his appearance had shocked her to her core – after all, one does not expect a creature in a mask to be anything other than monstrous. But it had been _more_ than that, something that went beyond her understanding. He’d ignited something within her – something strange, a feeling she could not name for she'd never felt it before, about anyone.

In her entire life she’d barely had a handful of friends – anything more than friendship had rarely crossed her mind. She’d wanted a family, not a night in someone’s arms who would only abandon her when they grew tired of her. Besides, there had always been far too many important things to worry about.

But then… that fleeting moment between them, after he’d found her in the hallway… Even now, she could recall how nothing else in the galaxy had seemed to matter beyond the intensity of his eyes and the curve of his lips and his hands on her waist, and how badly, terribly, she’d _yearned_ for him…

It terrified her.

For even after everything that happened, even though she knew what he’d said in throes of pain meant _nothing_ – that yearning was _still_ _there_.

With a frustrated sigh, she forced herself to be practical. Leaving now, without food, without water, without any idea where she was – that was suicidal. If living in the desert had taught her anything, it was that one should never underestimate the terrain. It could kill you as surely as any opponent of flesh and bone.

Besides, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, and while it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gone for long stretches without food, it was never a very pleasant experience, nor one she wished to prolong any longer than necessary.

And so, as she turned back, heavy steps trudging through the grass, Rey told herself she was doing the right thing.  

She was surviving, as she had always done.

The way back led her past the quarry, and she paused at its edge. It was a steep drop from where she stood and the wind swelled to meet her, tugging at her loose hair and casting it in tangles across her shoulders. As her gaze watched the sunlight reflecting off the water filling the pit below, she couldn’t help but wonder why he'd brought them here, or how he’d known this place existed.

 _Asking him that is probably out of the question though_ , she thought, lips setting in a thin line.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she began walking again, absently heading towards TIE fighter that hunched like an insect in the field. At a glance, it seemed to be in an alright shape, but it had clearly taken a hit at some point and a thorough inspection would be needed if she was even going to attempt to fly it anywhere.

Immersed in thought, she rounded the wing.

And then, there he was.

She froze, breath hitching in her throat as she took in the sight of him; his arm wrapped around his ribs, the wind whipping through his hair, the starkness of the slash across his pale face…

The intense gaze that was as molten as his wicked lightsaber – and was trained directly on her.  

On impulse, she bolted, but he lunged for her so quickly she’d barely reached the other side of the ship before he caught her around her middle. She screeched, her feet kicking out into the air as he hoisted her back.  

“Let me go!”

Her elbow shoved wildly against the wounded side of ribs; he cursed as he released her and collapsed forward. A sharp pang of his pain flared through her side, almost completely robbing her of breath as she crashed to her knees. Shaking her head in an effort to clear the haze, she tried to stumble to her feet, but he grabbed her by her hips and twisted her around so that she fell hard onto her back, the wind knocking right out of her.

Looming over her, his knees bracing on either sides of her thighs, he pinned her arms above her head.

“Monsters do not care if little scavenger girls save them,” he snarled, his frantic, furious gaze sweeping across her face. “Did you think I would thank you if you nursed me back to health? Did you think it would change anything at all?”

An angry cry escaped her lips as she struggled against his grip. “ _You_ brought me here,” she snapped. “If I'd let you die I’d be as much of a monster as you are!”

He grabbed her jaw, fingers digging into her flesh, hard enough to bruise. She winced, struggled, freed one arm and uselessly tried to pry away his wrist.

“There is only _one_ thing you do with a wounded animal.” His fingers clawed tighter. “You put it out of its misery.”

 _Ben_ , she pleaded, failing to wrench her jaw away.

But her plea only sparked his anger.

“You’re such a fragile little thing, aren’t you? A fragile little bird caught in the monster’s grasp. Where is your valiant Stormtrooper now, little bird? Your pathetic group of friends?”

He leaned in lower, hissing, “They’re all _dead_. Killed by the monster you decided to save. And now, it’s only you. Alone and abandoned once again. How easy it would be to break your wings.”

Rey's eyes turned to steel beneath a sheen of tears. “I should hate you.”

An incredulous, bitter laugh escaped him. “Yes. You should.”

When she blinked, tears spilled from her lashes. She dropped her hand away from his wrist. “But I don’t.”

Immediately, his sneer returned, his unrelenting grip pressing even harder. “Then you are an even bigger fool than I’d thought.”

“Tell me why you brought me here,” she said, staring unwaveringly into his eyes. “Tell me why you saved me when we both know what you’re capable of!”

With a harsh twist to her jaw, he let her go and stumbled to his feet. He turned away from her and reached out a hand to rest against the ship. Waves of his almost-crippling weariness pressed against her mind, but Rey refused to be deterred.

She wavered to her feet, shouting, “You are Han’s son! _Han_ , who was one of the few people in this entire world to show me kindness... And you killed him. You killed him – but saved _me–_ ”

He whirled around, eyes ablaze with hatred.

“Which will not stop me from destroying you now!”

A fierce spark of rage ignited a dangerous impulse: she yanked the lightsaber from her belt and thrust it towards him.

“Then do it! Let’s end this right here and now! Kill me and be _done_ with it!”

He moved in a blur, wrenching the saber out of her hand and summoning the blade so quickly she’d barely had time to blink. As it crackled into existence, casting a sky-blue hue across his face, he looked straight into her frightened eyes. Somehow, despite the fear thrumming through her veins, she kept her ground. 

“Do you truly think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he snarled. “I am fated for _darkness_. Han Solo could not sway me to the light. With his death, the last pull of the light was extinguished. And you, a mere scavenger, cannot hope to achieve what my own father could not!”

The blade hummed as he swerved it towards her, pointing straight at her chest.

Slowly, she shook her head, breathless with fear and grief. “You had a choice-"

“I did not _choose_!” he erupted, his entire being lighting up like a raging fire. “I walk the path my grandfather had walked before me, a path that had been laid at my feet long before I had ever been born! _Everything_ I have done, is as it should be!”

In the brunt of his overwhelming rage, it was impossible to contain the fierce tremors shaking through her entire body. “Then why…” she said, her voice almost lost to the wind. “Why did you save my life?”

He did not answer for some time, a strained moment in which she watched the sweat dripping down his brow, the heavy breaths exerting from his chest.

Finally, he lowered the weapon, though he did not extinguish the blade.

“You have the last piece of the map I need to find Luke Skywalker. Until then, you are more valuable to me alive, than dead.”

Rey’s eyes squeezed shut, an unreasonable hurt swelling in her chest. _The map._ She should have known. Why had she allowed herself to think anything different?

Suspended in his words, they remained motionless, the low hum of the weapon barely audible beneath the wind…

And then, something else.

A deep, menacing sound rose from the field, instantly setting the hairs at the back of her neck on edge.

She saw his eyes flicker away from her, her own gaze barely turning to glimpse _something,_ suddenly leaping from the grass-

In the lilt of a heartbeat, Ben lunged for her.

A roar thundered through the air, a shadow filling the corner of her vision–

His fingers were on her wrist–

Something sharp cut through her shoulder–

She screamed, in fright and pain, when in a dizzying, fleeting moment, his arms curled around her waist to spin them out of reach. But as he fluidly let her go, shoving her away, she _felt_ his wounded side tear from the effort.

For an instant, her vision blazed white, his pain obliterating her own.

Her back smashed against the wing of the ship.

She dropped into the grass, instinctively grabbing her shoulder, the blood leaking hotly through her fingers. But her mind was locked on _him_ , wild horror manifesting in a panicked _Ben!_ before she looked up.

Where she’d been standing a second ago, a monstrous feline hunched in a ravenous snarl - a single one of its claws red with her blood. The beast was huge, standing eye-level with Ben, but it was sickeningly thin and mangy, its ribs clearly visible along its sides.

Dazed, she watched as Ben, injured though he was, slipped into a predatory stance to face the golden, frenzied creature before him.

In a paralyzing second, man and feline stood locked in a duel of glares; the hum of the lightsaber and the low, rumbling growl of the feline rolling like thunder through the air.

And then they danced, slashing claws and blue arcs. Yet where in the crumbling, frigid forest Ben had flowed in fluid, lethal grace, his movements now were frantic in comparison. He was on the defense: the feline had reach, and Ben could only retreat. There had already been a sheen of sweat glistening upon his brow, but now, he was panting through bared teeth and his blood soaked through the bandages around his chest.

Her fear for him sliced sharper than the burning in her shoulder.

Then, perhaps tiring of the creature who was putting up a fight, the golden beast abruptly turned to the more vulnerable target left wide open behind it.

Rey’s heart staggered, panic grabbing her throat.

Over the head of the creature, she met Ben's umber gaze, and she could have sworn she saw a brief flash of fear pass through his eyes.

With a monstrous roar, he thrust his palm forward and the Force flared out of him like a gale, swooping the creature through the air to smash it harshly into the ship. A second later, an agonised howl split through the air as the lightsaber plunged straight into the beast’s heart.

It collapsed, dead.

Rey scrambled away. Shuddering gasps huffed through her lips, her entire body shaking. She hunched over, retching, but her stomach was empty and the only thing her dry-heaving managed was to make her throat ache from the effort.

Palms pressing into the grass, she concentrated on breathing, ignoring the razor-sharp sting in her shoulder.

And the ghost of a pain that was not hers.

* * *

Kylo Ren shuddered from barely-contained anger, his blood thrumming with adrenaline and suffering and the consistent effort of keeping up the barrier. His unseeing gaze was fixed upon the dead creature at his feet, whilst his mind was torn between blocking out the scavenger’s presence and determining her condition.

He should have never allowed that crazed beast to get anywhere near her. He should have sensed the damned thing long before it ever became a danger!

_You weak, pathetic fool._

A scowl marred his features.

A cut from those claws was certain to cause infection. Which meant she would be absolutely useless to him if the wound wasn’t dealt with quickly and decently.

Another swell of rage simmered through his blood. Anger was a state of mind he constantly strives for - but it meant _nothing_ when he lacked the clarity to direct it into a single focus; when it spilled out of him in uncontrollable currents, like the temperamental mood swings of a damned teenager.

His Master had always claimed he lacked focus – something he had refused to believe.

Now, the very proof of his unfocused, conflicted mind was cowering in the grass barely a few paces away.

Kylo Ren’s eyes fluttered shut, a deep breath shaking through his nose. Her emotions, her thoughts and sensations, they were all pulling at him like the tides of the ocean. He could feel her terror, the burning from the cut on her shoulder, her relief at the beast being dead, her fatigue, her concern about _him_ -

Fiercely, he shut her out as well as he could manage.

Their connection should not be this strong or this simple!

Ever since the interrogation room, he’d been able to sense her so intensely, so _effortlessly_ … He was skilled in telepathy, certainly – but her? Such connections took mutual growth, time, training–

 _Torture_.

When he had completed the first phase of his training, Snoke bound a connection between them, in order to further his student’s abilities. And he did. He had _clawed_ his way into his mind, rending through each and every single defense until there had been nothing left. Until the bond between them had become a forged, twisted limb, an unbreakable tether.

One he could only escape for so long.

Again, her emotions brushed his. Pain, fear, uncertainty-

_Damn her!_

He should not care about her blasted _feelings_.

It was the exhaustion. He needed rest. While his anger and self-loathing could be channeled into assisting the healing process, constantly drawing upon his pain to fuel his abilities was working entirely against that. And at the moment, he wasn’t strong enough _not_ to draw upon the pain.

Without rest soon, he would completely burn out.

Extinguishing the lightsaber, he slipped the weapon into the waistband of his trousers, and turned to face her. She was braced on her knees in the grass, her back towards him. With slow strides, he made his way over to her. She did not move as he crouched at her side, but he could feel her attention settle on him.

For the life of him, he could not say what made his fingertips reach toward her face; an impulse he could not grasp.

But it mattered little, for she flinched away, her wild eyes snapping to his.

“ _Don’t_ ,” she said, the word laced with so much hurt he withdrew his hand back into a fist.

Shivers were racking her slender frame as blood streaked across her entire left shoulder, seeping through her fingers to drip into the grass. Only a grazing cut, yet it had gone deeper than he’d thought.

He clenched his jaw.

“You’re injured.”

“I’ll live,” she bit out, staring down into the grass.

A scoff huffed between his lips. “Will you?”

Her eyes flickered up to his, but while he’d been expecting a glare, her expression was one of fatigue, as though the fight had completely gone out of her.

He would have preferred a glare.

“I don’t know what to make of you anymore,” she muttered, the wind stirring her tangled hair. “You brought me here... put yourself between me and that creature… All because of the _map_?”

She slowly shook her head.

“You could have taken me to the First Order. To your Master. To another interrogation room. To a damned torture chamber! Instead, you brought me here.”

She searched his eyes too intensely. And he could feel her consciousness prod and poke his – but whether she was doing it intentionally or not, he remained resolute in shutting her out as best as he was currently able.

A sigh flew from her lips, and she dipped her head, taking a deep breath before starting to rise to her feet. Yet she had barely straightened when she swayed.

In an instant, he caught her against his chest.

Fury spiked through him at his reflexive reaction. His apparent need to constantly come to her aid was beginning to grate on his nerves.

Yet with a soft grunt, he roughly scooped her into his arms, holding her tighter as she scrambled.

“Put me down!”

“You can barely walk.”

“But your injuries-“

“I’ll live,” he echoed her words, and began heading back towards the dwelling. After a moment, her lingering gaze drew his, and when he looked down into her eyes, she murmured, “ _Monsters_ …do not care about saving little birds.”

As the pale sunlight caught those brown eyes, casting feathery shadows through her long lashes, he noticed they were flecked with green.

“No,” he agreed. “They do not.”

If the smallest of smiles curved across her lips, he pretended not to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After my first exam this week I spoiled myself by watching the Force Awakens for the thousandth time xD Damn, that scene between Ben and Han… Gets me right in the heart, every time. Not to mention all the Reylo goodness *swoons*
> 
> Thanks for reading and please leave some feedback if you have time! :)
> 
> A moodboard for this chapter can be found [here.](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/147935954631/then-like-a-star-shooting-across-the-sky)


	5. Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Song:** [Night by Ludovico Einaudi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9NM-yK1C2I)

* * *

# 5

## Night

_I don't know what to say_

_But I'm going to want you till the stars evaporate_

_We're only here for just a moment in the light_

_One day it shines for us the next we're in the night_

Starlight, Starset

* * *

As soon as they stepped inside, he deposited her none-too-gently on top of the kitchen table.

"Stay put," he ordered, untangling his arms from her tiny frame.

She gave an angry huff and attempted to slip away. "I don't need any more help-"

He swiftly blocked her path, and curled an arm around her middle to scoot her back in place. Features twisting into a sneer, he dipped his head, catching her gaze with an intent look. "Just like you didn't need my help to get inside? Or kill the damned creature you had lured here?"

Her eyes flashed. "What? I did _not_ -"

"You did. That beast was half-starved, it would never have attacked us otherwise. It must have smelled the blood on your clothing when you went off on your own, and followed you back here, desperate to catch the unsuspecting prey."

Frustration bloomed on her face as she searched his eyes, perhaps gauging if he was telling the truth.

"The longer we argue," he snapped, "the more blood you'll lose."

But she was clearly determined to be willful and infuriating. "I'll accept your help, but only if you'll allow me to check _your_ wounds afterwards."

Exasperated, he shook his head, pulling away from her. "This is not a negotiation, scavenger."

"I'm making it one."

A soft grunt fell from his lips. "Fine, then be my guest and bleed out for all I care."

He turned away, fury simmering just beneath the surface, only to have her suddenly snatch his wrist with her bloodied hand. His gaze snapped back, inherent rage threatening to obliterate her for her _stubbornness_ –

But the look on her face – pleading, open, concerned – cut straight through his ire.

With a soft, imploring tone and wide eyes, she said, "I don't know how to do this, alright? I don't know how to act, or what to say, or what to _think_ because clearly even my thoughts aren't safe from you."

She paused, and he had the distinct feeling that she was gathering her courage.

"But I do know you're in pain. I _felt_ your wounds tear when you flung me out of the way…"

Instantly, it all became clear.

Her apparent concern for him was merely a reaction to having to endure his pain through the Force. It wasn't about him, it was about _her_.

Why he'd even contemplated any other reason he could only ascribe to exhaustion.

A tense second slipped by in which he was tempted to prolong their mutual suffering, purely for the fact that she had the audacity to demand _anything_ of him. But all his refusal would accomplish would be to remain in this situation longer than necessary.

"Alright," he growled, wrenching his arm from her grip. "After I stitch shut your shoulder."

The fear blanching across her face made his lips tug into a brief, victorious smirk, while without another word he headed towards the bedroom and steadfastly ignored the warmth of her blood staining his wrist.

* * *

Where Rey remained alone in the kitchen, she slowly gripped the edge of the table with both palms. The wind rushed through the open door, and though it caused her teeth to clatter, she hadn't the strength to stand up and close it. Even sitting as she was, she felt like she was about to pass out, the entire room spinning quite nauseatingly. Shivers were steadily coursing through her body, and despite the cold bite of the gusts blowing in from outside, there was sweat gathering upon her brow.

Inhaling a deep breath through her nose, she blew it out through her lips, repeating this multiple times in an effort to keep herself coherent.

Her mind was still reeling - both from the attack and what had taken place before it, but mostly because she could not stop thinking about that one moment. That tiny, sliver of a moment in which he'd _reached_ for her, so intent on putting himself between her and that feline that he'd completely disregarded what it would mean for his injuries.

It was all too much. Too bizarre. His pain, hers, anger, fear, exhaustion, hunger.

She couldn't think straight anymore.

Steeling herself, Rey tried to get a better look at her wound, but it was at such an angle that she couldn't quite see the extent of the damage, and her clothing, while somewhat ripped, was in the way. Drawing another deep breath through her nose, she slowly tugged at her neckline, slipping the wrap and her undershirt down just enough to expose her shoulder.

Witnessing the blood oozing through the cut made her head spin, and she quickly enclosed her fingers over it in an effort to slow the bleeding at least a little. She wondered if he was serious about the stitches – even the mere thought of it made her sick. Her last experience with stitches… hadn't exactly been pleasant.

A fierce tremor shook through her, though she didn't quite know if it was from fever or fear.

Just then, his heavy steps came through the hall, and she heard him pause in the doorway before he continued into the kitchen. Leaving the medical supplies and a bowl of clean water on the table, he marched past her to shut the front door with a loud thud.

The wind retreated to a soft howl against the walls, and she was grateful for having one less reason to shiver.

Yet now the quiet was so pronounced that it seemed to swell and envelop the entire room in a stifling silence, pressing between them like a living thing.

Perhaps if she had been thinking clearly, she would have wondered what that meant – why it was so _awkward_. Enemies, at least, knew where they stood with one another. But what was she to make of this man who seemed to embody the essence of a shadow itself, who was always changing from one form to the next, never quite allowing her to get any concrete idea what she felt about him?

The heavy silence emphasised the avoidance of gazes, the uncomfortable shift of shoulders, the uneasy flexing of fingers. Neither one of them said a word as he finally came to stand at her side, rifling through the medpac. She pretended not to watch him from the corner of her eye, but her heart was steadily beating faster with his continued nearness and in the oppressing stillness, she had the passing, ridiculous fear that he could hear it.

There was the soft rustle of fabric as he prepared one of the antiseptic cleaning pads.

Her eyes briefly squeezed shut before finding on a tiny mark upon one of the kitchen cupboards.

She focused on that spot so intently that she almost jumped right out of her skin when he touched her hand.

Wide eyes flew up to meet with his unyielding umber gaze.

Arching a brow, he said, "Let go."

She blinked, confused, before realizing she was still clutching the injury he was trying to tend. Swallowing hard, she uncurled her fingers, drawing her hand away from beneath his touch and steadfastly returned her gaze to the cupboard.

He was not gentle, causing her to wince several times, but at least he was methodical, his assured movements belying a practiced ease. After pressing down on the gash for several long moments to completely stop the bleeding, he washed away the blood with swift swipes.

Rey dared a curious peek. From what she could see, a single cut ran down from her shoulder towards her spine.

"Is it really necessary to stitch it?" she asked with a voice that was entirely too small and vulnerable for her liking.

He stilled, his heavy gaze fixing upon her. "Tell me you're not afraid of needles."

There was a note of incredulity in his tone.

She couldn't find it in herself to blame him.

"Of course not."

A scoff huffed through his lips. "I don't have to be able to read your mind to know that's a lie."

Her eyes flicked up.

"I'm not _afraid._ I just… don't like them."

She realized how that sounded. There were far more important things to worry about, and here she was unable to quell her fears of an experience that had happened years ago.

 _Fragile little thing indeed_ , she mused, too sore and exhausted to care whether he could read that particular thought. She even expected him to point out how pathetic she was, especially since he was pinning her beneath an unwavering stare that really made her want to squirm.

But when he spoke, there was no malice in his voice.

"The cut is not too severe, and the bleeding has stopped… but it'll take much longer to heal without stitches, and you'd be at a greater risk for infection."

Right. Of course.

_Pull yourself together._

"Go on then," she said, turning her face away.

To his credit, he said nothing more, and proceeded to spray something onto the cut. It brought a cool sensation with it, and she realised the pain retreated.

"What is the spray for?" she asked without looking up at him.

"To numb the wound."

"Oh," she said softly, feeling foolish for having asked yet still surprised that he would have cared to numb it at all. And it made her think of the contrast between his aid now, and hers from the day before. That she, with her basic knowledge, had managed to help him at all was purely a miracle. She didn't know what she would have done if his wounds had been worse. If she'd been the one who needed to do stitches.

Yet despite knowing she wouldn't feel anything, one glance of him preparing the needle made her sick to her stomach. Resolutely, she fixed her gaze on that spot on the cupboard, trying to concentrate on breathing and not–

"Think of something _else_."

The evenly-toned statement derailed her thoughts, so much so that she was hardly aware of when he started stitching.

Her reaction drifted to him with no conscious intent – _Like what?_

She felt, rather than saw him hesitate.

As he worked, a swell of his warm breath fell across her exposed neck.

And then–

… _ **Flying**_.

Her breath snagged inside her chest. For with his answer came the fleeting image of the world seen through the windows of an all-too familiar ship, of stars whizzing by in streaks of silver light, of a younger Han Solo, grinning at her–

No. Not at _her_.

She blinked, and the vision, the _memory_ , was gone, leaving her heart beating painfully against her ribs.

How deep that memory must lie, and yet to be connected so profoundly with the thought of flying… She kept still, barely breathing at all, trying to tell herself that it was impossible for him to have deliberately sent her that thought, that he couldn't have known she would see it.

And yet…

"There, it's done," he said, and she became aware of a different sensation – he was rubbing something into her shoulder. Something that felt warm and comforting, easing welcomed relief into her throbbing shoulder. It was such a surprising change to the constant torment of the last few days that she released a small sigh, relishing the alleviating touch and soothing warmth.

When he stopped, she was almost sorry to feel his fingertips replaced by a bandage. He slipped her clothing back into place, and by now she was certain he was done with his insisted nursing session, yet he surprised her again.

He came to stand directly in front of her - and her momentary puzzlement was all it took for her to see everything she had not allowed herself to take notice of the day before. Pale skin scattered with a constellation of dark freckles and moles; broad shoulders that veered to lithely curved biceps; lean, toned stomach muscles that all but begged her eyes to follow the muscled line to slanting hipbones-

Rey glanced away, heart in her throat, but he pressed two fingers against her jaw – gently, nothing like earlier, when he'd only meant to _hurt_ – to guide her to look up at him.

Only for a second did she obey, catching the sombre look upon his features, the stark line of his scar–

She flinched.

"Unnerved so easily?" he asked, his tone holding a mixture of perplexity and derision. "I _promise_ I won't bite."

" _I_ might."

"As hard as any desert rat is able, I'm sure."

Another retort was on the tip of her tongue, but he was undeterred, raising both hands to gently cup her face. The gesture effectively silenced whatever she'd been about to say, and all she could do was stare up at him in frozen shock. His fingers framed her cheeks, thumbs pressing slightly against her chin.

At the touch, a soft hiss escaped between her teeth, more from surprise to find that the skin there was so tender than any real pain.

He hummed, a deep, throaty sound, as he carefully turned her face this way and that, inspecting the wound at her temple she'd all but forgotten about.

"Hm. Are you feeling dizzy? Or nauseous?"

His hands were warm.

And so much softer than she would have expected.

Her heart fluttered, and all she could do was nod.

He met her gaze.

Tilting his head a fraction, he watched her, simply watched her - there was no malice now, no hatred or rage - and she stared back, unwaveringly.

"You might have a concussion," he murmured. "You did hit your head very hard, after all."

His fingers drifted away from her face to reach for the medpac. He took out another cleaning pad, and then with gentle strokes, he cleaned her temple of the dried and sticky blood. And the entire time she didn't dare move. Hardly dared to breathe.

As though reminding him of her presence would shatter… _whatever_ this was.

She would have preferred not to look at him, but it was impossible when he was leaning in so close, when her vision was filled by him and she could trace the contours of sculpted muscles rippling beneath taut skin as he moved.

How could he possibly be so quiet and contained, so methodical and precise, when she knew, she _knew_ that he was a force of nature in his own right, an untameable storm only waiting to be released? How could he be so vastly different from the manic man who had pinned her in the grass, who had taunted and threatened her?

It scared her, this quiet, the way his long eyelashes dipped when his eyes flickered between the medical supplies and her face. The way his nimble fingers weren't poised in directing the Force to claw into her mind, but moving tenderly in tiny movements – a thumb brushing against her jawline, fingertips tracing a trail of soothing salve over the scrape at her temple, fluttering over bruised skin.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

She didn't want to see this side of him.

A side even more dangerous than the raging tempest.

But she was so tired, and the salve and his fingertips felt so good, subduing her apprehension and providing a momentary spell of relief. Long-lashed eyes fluttered shut, as a soft, content moan spilled from her throat. Perhaps it was her sudden sleepiness playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn his fingers lingered just a fraction longer than strictly necessary. And by no intent of her own, her head drooped ever so slightly forward.

For half a moment, her forehead gently came to rest against his chest.

His heart _leapt_ –

Sending both sound and feeling resonating through her core.

As though she was made of fire, he withdrew, and her eyes snapped open to see him standing with his back towards her, fists trembling at his sides.

Energy crackled and spun through the space between them, profound but indecipherable.

Her knuckles went stark white where she gripped the table, lips parting as she tried to decide whether to reach out to him or–

But before she could react, the energy receded – swift and sudden, like the last glimpse of the sun over the horizon.

A moment passed, and then another before the rigidity flowed out of him. She watched as he stepped over to the sink, washed his hands and fished out two glasses that he filled with water. Facing her, he held one of them out to her.

She blinked, puzzled.

"Drink," he said.

When her brain decided to work again, she eagerly took the water, all but downing it within seconds and swiping the back of her hand across her mouth by the time he'd barely taken a sip.

Lowering the glass, she found him watching her with a puzzled expression as he leaned back against the cupboards. Another wave of awkwardness washed over her, and she scrambled for something to break the silence with.

"I… I wanted to thank you."

He gave her a strange look that was somewhere between disdain and confusion. "Thank me? What could you _possibly_ want to thank me for?"

Rey swallowed, hard, trying to gather her frayed wits. She grabbed her glass with both hands in an effort to quiet the urge to fidget. "Helping me. With my shoulder. And. The water. And…"

The final words, the _real_ reason she was thanking him _,_ was resting heavily upon her tongue, pressing against her ribs. Somehow, just blurting out that she was thankful he'd saved her life... twice now... It didn't seem right. Or enough. Her eyes squeezed shut, a sigh flowing through her nose.

He made a sound; a sigh or scoff, she wasn't sure. "You really are the strangest creature I've ever encountered."

She stilled. _Creature_. One of the very first things she'd ever said to him.

It struck her that she barely knew anything more about him than she did that day. And though he was no longer wearing the visor fitting for a creature of darkness, he wore a mask all the same.

_Creature. Man. Monster. Enemy. Saviour. Kylo Ren. Ben Solo._

Would she ever come to know which one was the real him?

Or was she simply fooling herself, holding onto the hope that there was more to him than the masks?

In her silent pensiveness, he'd returned to the medical supplies and begun unwrapping the bloodied bandages from around his chest. She pretended not to see the slightest tightening of the skin around his eyes – it wasn't a wince, not exactly, but still profound enough for her fingers to claw so tightly into the glass she was certain it would shatter in her grasp.

When the last bandage came undone, revealing the blood gushing freely from his fractured ribcage, she had to place the glass aside.

A wave of dizziness almost caused her to topple from her seat. How was it possible for him to even be standing, let alone walking around – _carrying her inside_ – all the while bearing _that_?

"I'm _sorry_ ," she breathed, before she could catch herself. "This is my fault–"

"Spare me," he said sharply, slanting her with a dark look. "I've had worse."

She looked away, unable to even contemplate what could possibly be _worse_ than fractured ribs and countless other injuries.

A heavy, tensed silence settled between them. She'd intended to help him, that was their deal after all, but now that he was tending to his injury himself she felt completely out of place. And she would have left him to lick his wounds in peace, except she wasn't sure where else she was supposed to go. One of the other dwellings perhaps?

Unable to bear the silence any longer, she gestured to the aid kit. "Is there some medicine in there you can take for the pain? I wanted to give you something last night but-"

"I don't need painkillers," he snapped, his irritation prickling like heat against her skin. He was applying clean bandages now, features set in a scowl.

After a brief pause, he added, "You should take some though."

A frown dipped between her brows. "What? I have one cut, you-"

Fury flashed across his face as he pinned her beneath a searing gaze. "Can you manipulate the Force to help you heal?"

Stunned, her parted lips shut in silence.

"No, of course not. You only realized you were Force sensitive a few days ago. Whereas I have been training my _entire life_."

He threw down the scissor he'd used to cut the bandages.

"I told you. I'll live. And whatever inconvenience you may be experiencing on my behalf, it'll be over soon."

Her body went ridged, his words piercing like daggers through her chest as her gaze grew bewildered. "Inconvenience? Is that really what you think…? That I view your pain as an _inconvenience_?"

She stared at him. "It's not about me. I didn't help you for _my_ sake–"

" _Enough!_ "

He loomed towards her, shoulders hunched, hands tensed into claws – and her pulse nearly stopped in the sudden maelstrom of his anger.

"Your very presence is already making me sick," he hissed. "At least _attempt_ to contain your emotions. I don't have the strength to keep blocking you out, while simultaneously keeping you from sensing mine."

He inhaled a shuddering breath. "And I sure as hell don't need a fucking scavenger to fuss over me."

Turning his back towards her, he went back to ministering his wounds, and Rey frantically clamped down every single emotion threatening to well up. Her entire body tensed, throat aching from the effort, trembles racking through her. With eyes shut, she tried to calm down, to not think about anything at all, lest he realize just how raw his words had left her.

* * *

Several strained, silent minutes crawled by in which Kylo Ren focused on tending to himself. It was a struggle to think straight through the labyrinth of pain and confliction, to not let any further traces of vulnerability slip. The fight with that beast – a fight that by all rights should have been child's play – had taken much more out of him than he would care to admit. But at least he managed to stop the renewed bleeding and applied the bacta healing salve he'd used on the scavenger's shoulder. Then, with some minor frustration, he'd bandaged his chest once more. At this rate their medical supplies wouldn't hold out much longer. He'd need to go check the other dwellings to see if more medpacs had remained behind.

All the while, she remained as quiet as the desert rat he'd called her to be.

And somehow – he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, judging from how quickly her abilities were strengthening – she did as he'd asked. Her emotions no longer assaulted his, nor did he feel her essence brush his too keenly.

_Aggravating creature._

At least the quiet lent him a reprieve in which to gather his resolve and focus on shutting her out from the vexing agony harassing him. But the silence also seemed to magnify her every tiny movement. The rustle of her clothing. Her faint, feathered breath.

The careful, measured way in which she slipped off the table.

He listened to every soft step that took her over to the kitchen. There was the trickle of water, as she washed her hands. Then she began rifling through the cupboards, probably searching for something to eat.

A sigh shuddered through his nose.

When he turned, she had retrieved two cans of soup from a top cupboard, and now rummaged through a drawer. Silently, he rounded the kitchen table and pulled out the drawer closest to him, the cutlery rattling softly inside.

It took only a moment to find a can opener.

"Here," he said, holding it out to her.

Her gaze flashed to him, glancing between the offered utensil and his eyes before taking it. A tiny nod of acknowledgment was all he received before she opened the first can. He leaned back against the sink, briefly closing his eyes against the searing fire throbbing through the slash across his face.

Fatigue dragged at his bones, but there would be no rest for him yet.

Not for a long while.

When his eyes drifted open, he found an opened can of soup beside him on the cupboard. He viewed it with mild distaste and indifference. The scavenger, however, clearly had no such qualms about the cold, no-doubt flavourless soup, for she quickly brought hers to her lips and proceeded to all but inhale it as she'd done with the water.

His reaction was reflexive - he gently caught her wrist. Those wide, owlish eyes flicked up to him, annoyance and a hint of fright written clearly in their depths.

"Slow down," he admonished. "You'll make yourself sick."

He spent a passing thought on why the hell he should care.

Why he cared at all, beyond ensuring she did not die before he had obtained the map.

Perhaps she thought the same thing as she gave him a defiant look. But she must have realized there was some sense in his words for she relented with a sigh. As she returned to her meal, he noted the effort she made of taking smaller sips every few moments, instead of downing it all in one go. And for some blasted, inexplicable reason, his lips almost, _almost_ tugged in amusement.

Scowling, he raised his own can and drank. A grimace twisted across his lips. He was right about the lack of flavour, but he supposed he had to eat something at some point.

"What is this place anyway?" she asked then, startling him out of his thoughts.

He kept his gaze trained fixedly upon the tin in his hand. "An inconsequential planet with few inhabitants."

"And how did you know about it?"

Was that a note of accusation in her tone? His eyes met hers, finding a hardness in her gaze. "This was one of the planets The First Order used for its resources to build Starkiller Base," he answered simply. "I visited this site once, briefly."

"And the inhabitants did not mind the First Order using their lands to build a weapon that could destroy any _inconsequential_ planets as they see fit? Or was that why you were here? To snuff any such rebellious notions?"

His fingers tightened. "Not everyone in this damned galaxy is as stubborn or as rebellious as you. Some of them know their place."

A sneer tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Like you know yours? As the lapdog of the First Order?"

It took every shred of willpower to remain motionless. To not grab her by the throat and see the life leave those clear, hazel eyes.

When he finally spoke, his tone was even, concealing his wicked anger. "You should get some sleep."

Clearly that was not the response she'd been expecting, if the brief look of surprise flickering through doe-eyes was anything to go on. She suddenly seemed at a loss for words, which was quite ironic as she'd been the one to bait him but a moment ago.

"What about you?" she finally asked.

He suppressed a flare of frustration that manifested in a low growl. "What about me?"

"You need to sleep too."

A dark laugh fell from his lips.

He would not mistake her concern for anything other than trickery.

"Afraid I'll kill you in your sleep, little bird?" he mocked, relishing the return of the steel in her eyes. Leaning closer, he loomed over her. "If I'd wanted you dead, you would be."

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, but she didn't waver under his gaze, nor did she step away.

"You are infuriating," she bit out.

"The feeling is mutual," he scoffed, leaning back against the cupboards again. Gesturing to the bedroom, he added, "Go on."

Without a further word, she left, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

* * *

Night had fallen.

Kylo Ren was a solitary figure at the kitchen table, right arm once again holding his ribcage, his left hand resting upon his thigh. He clenched and unclenched his fingers as he watched the darkened world, idly noting how this place had not changed at all since his brief visit years ago. The days were short, the wind never stopped blowing, and there was a constant frigidness in the air. From what he recalled, the men stationed here had reported relentless thunderstorms and even freak snowstorms that would gather in a moment's notice. Partly the reason why this quarry had been abandoned so soon into its establishment.

His pale reflection stared back at him from the window.

And the mark, the slash that would forever be a testament of his failure, seemed to mock him for his weaknesses.

He longed for his mask more than ever. He felt naked without it; vulnerable, open.

Especially around the damned scavenger. Her clear eyes noticed too much. She should not have such an advantage, coupled with this ridiculous bond.

 _I wanted to thank you,_ she'd said.

What creature in their right mind _thanks_ the monster that had left them bloodied and bruised?

Releasing a harsh breath, he closed his eyes. The last few days felt like a blur. A nauseating blur that still left him reeling; he was unraveling, flung from the path he was meant to walk, his own contradictory actions a thorn in side.

All because of her.

Kylo Ren frowned, rising to his feet to stand by the window. She'd wanted to know why he'd saved her, and brought her here. He'd given her a truthful answer, but what she didn't know was that it had only been in that very moment, the moment when she'd asked, that he'd recalled the map to Luke Skywalker.

It was only then that he'd been forced to ask himself the same questions.

He _did_ want the map. He _did_ want to find Luke Skywalker.

But that did not explain the unstoppable wave of instinct that had swept him into saving her from a fall that would have meant her death.

It was making him sick, trying to discern where that instinct had sprung from. Impossible, to think he could somehow hold _compassion_ for this girl.

He sent a dark, somber look towards the bedroom.

She'd managed to beat him, in that forest. Her natural abilities, even untrained, was astounding.

But he had _wanted_ to die.

He'd thought the death of Han Solo would bring the end to his torment. He'd thought it would free him of this lifelong pain, the pain of always being torn in two opposite directions.

It had not.

For even in the aftermath of his greatest test, even with the blood of his father tainting his hands, he could _still_ feel the light – pulling, reaching at him through the essence of a tiny, insignificant scavenger. And so, buried beneath all of his fury and hate, there had been the desire to have it all end.

Trembles started to shake through him, agony threatening to claw from the inside out. His hands tightened into shaking fists.

She should have killed him.

He had already failed, and he'd kept failing when she'd refused his offer of teaching her. And in that moment of death not delivered, in that real, raw moment, he had decided to save her.

Suddenly, he stilled, something dark sparking in his eyes.

The greatest weakness and yet the greatest strength of the dark side, was that all power either be destroyed – or _taken._

Perhaps… It _hadn't_ been compassion… It was her power that had allured him from the start, her power that he'd wanted to save, to save so that he could have it for himself.

Perhaps he had not failed, after all.

His instinctive need to guard her, to protect her from his Master… These were yet the yearnings of the dark side, a fierce desire to control and dominate, to carve out and take what was _his_.

All at once, a plan rapidly began taking form, his brows twisting into a severe frown.

After he had dealt with Skywalker, he would convince the little rat to join the dark side and become his apprentice. She would not refuse him again. He would teach her. She would become one of the most powerful Knights of Ren.

Together, they can become unstoppable.

It would not be easy, though. Her light was unlike any he'd ever encountered before, blinding in its intensity. And yet… she'd let her _emotions_ guide her… Emotions that were powerful enough to rival his own. If he could show her what she was truly capable of, the strength she could draw from using those compelling feelings…

What a pity it would be to quench such fierceness with the dismal techniques of the Jedi.

But if this plan would have any hope in succeeding, he could not further risk the wrath of the Supreme Leader. His Master had already showed a lack of faith in him… And while the death of Han Solo would have demonstrated his commitment to the dark side, that success would mean nothing if his Master suspected the scavenger to have lured him to the light.

With this, he would prove his loyalty to the dark side, once and for all.

And so, Kylo Ren let go of the mental barrier he'd raised that morning, feeling it slip away until it faded away into nothingness. With its dissipation came at least a measure of relief to the ever-pounding headache.

Now, all he needed to do was wait.

His breath fogged against the window, covering his reflection. She was sleeping now. Her shoulder had been paining her, leaving her tossing and turning, but a gentle nudge through the Force had descended her into slumber. Earlier, she'd admitted to feeling dizzy and nauseous - possible symptoms of a concussion. He'd need to keep an eye on her, to ensure those symptoms do not worsen. 

He headed through the hallway towards the bedroom, his heavy steps resounding through the silence. Quietly opening the door, he slipped inside and as he headed towards his clothing that still lay across the chair, he steadfastly refused to look down at the slender figure on the bed.

Forgoing the robes for now, he pulled his tunic over his head and tugged on his gloves. Then, out of ingrained habit, he folded the rest of his clothes meticulously, placing it back upon the chair. His lightsaber was still attached to his belt. He unclasped it, and placed both lightsabers, the black and the silver, atop the bedside cabinet.

For the longest time, he stood motionless, eyes closed and fists at his sides.

Her essence was like a sun in the room.

Slowly, he turned.

She was curled into a ball on her side, one hand tucked just beneath her chin. Her hair had come entirely loose, framing her face in tangled waves.

She didn't look like the celestial light haunting the edges of his shadows.

She didn't look like anything at all; a tiny thing of no significance.

And yet, not for the first time, he felt himself inexplicably drawn to her. Crouching by the side of the bed, he dipped his head, repressing a mystifying tug of his heart, before settling his eyes on her face. So peaceful she looked in sleep, all traces of defiance, determination and pain swept from her delicate features.

 _It's not about me,_ her words from earlier spun through him _. I didn't help you for my sake…_

Unbidden, his fingertips reached towards her, but they stilled in mid-air. He recalled that look in her eyes when he'd reached for her after the feline's attack, how she'd flinched, her voice laced with hurt - and afterwards she'd told him that she didn't know what to make of him anymore.

And now, as he withdrew his hand back to his side, his response fell from his lips in a husky whisper.

"I don't know what to make of you, either."

With that, he rose to his feet, and silently strode out of the room, leaving her to her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Kylo, you beautiful, misguided man xD
> 
> If you lovely readers could spare a moment to leave some constructive feedback, I would appreciate it so very much :) Either way, I am very grateful to everyone reading my story! If you want, you can follow me on [tumblr](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> A moodboard for this chapter can be found [here.](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/161650648191/ladylionhartxx-for-the-longest-time-he-stood)


	6. Sunshower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief reminder: I don't always follow canon. 
> 
> **Song:** [Two Sunsets by Ludovico Einaudi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxTyxfgzvWw)

* * *

# 6

## Sunshower

 _Will the darkness fall upon me_  
  
_When the air is growing thin_  
  
_Will the light begin to pull me_  
  
_To its everlasting will_  
  
_I can hear the voices haunting_  
  
_There is nothing left to fear_  
  
_And I am still calling_  
  
_I am still calling to you_  
  
Ashes of Eden, Breaking Benjamin

* * *

Rey awoke to an empty house.

She soon found herself in the kitchen, fingertips pressing against the window as she peered outside. Thick clouds were rolling in, filtering somber light through the glass and dousing the vibrant landscape in shades of blue-greys as the wind chased silver ripples through the swaying fields.

He was out there somewhere, a stirring gloom at the shores of her mind.

She had the passing thought of gathering as much supplies as she could and taking her risks out there. But that plan quickly crumbled, for she suspected he was able to pinpoint her exact location. He'd done so multiple times now. That could be the only explanation how he’d known where she was in Starkiller Base, in the forest with Finn, and then again the day before. She hadn’t consciously tried to search for him to find out if she could do the same. It was too strange, disconcerting even, being able to sense someone like this. She’d always had a keen awareness of her surroundings – perhaps that too had been due to the Force – but this was different. It was _more_. As though within the Force she was a desert and he was the wind, always stirring her sands.

Her sigh fogged against the glass.

Was this what it would be like from now on? Whenever she encountered another Force-sensitive being they’d be able to sense each other’s emotions and thoughts like this? Sense each other’s presence? If that was the case, she certainly needed to learn how to guard her mind against unwanted intrusions…

But… It hadn’t started like this. When he’d captured her, he’d _forced_ himself into her mind. Only later did she realize that the connection he’d forged hadn’t gone away – that instead it had grown more intense. And she didn't think he'd intended for it to happen.

Perhaps, she rationalised, it was like touching. It could be gentle, or harmful, or even constant - like holding hands.

Did that mean they could let go whenever they wanted?

But if it was that easy, surely he would have severed whatever this connection was by now?

A soft, frustrated moan escaped her throat and she leaned her forehead against the cool window.

She didn’t know what she’d been expecting this morning, but his _absence_ hadn’t exactly been it. Last night, after her temper had simmered down, she’d felt frustrated and out of place, guilty even. His injuries were far worse than hers, and she’d worried about where he would sleep, _if_ he would sleep.

All the while she’d tried to tell herself that she shouldn’t care. He was a murderer. Quite possibly an insane one. Unpredictable. Beyond frustrating. More dangerous than any other being she’d ever encountered.

And yet, the only thing she’d done since waking up was wonder where he was.

_What am I doing…?_

He’d made it crystal clear that he didn’t want nor need her worrying over him.

Shaking her head, Rey ran a hand through her hair and grimaced when she found it to be utterly tangled. A further glance down at herself revealed how filthy she was – covered in blood, sweat and dirt. She was used to being dusty - but she could not recall ever having felt so _grimy_ before. The desert was arid and dry, and she'd learned how to keep herself clean without wasting her water supplies unnecessarily. This place was an entirely different situation, though.

On top of feeling miserably unclean, her shoulder was aching up a storm. With a soft groan and fingertips gently touching the bandaged cut, she eyed the medpac he'd left on the kitchen cupboards. Perhaps she should have followed his advice and taken something for the pain, but she didn’t know which of those bottles held the correct medication. And she wasn’t about to admit to him that she couldn’t read.

She’d just have to bear it, for now.

With a sigh she made her way to the bathroom and sent a contemplative gaze at the shower. It was bizarre to have water so freely available when back home her daily survival depended on having a steady supply. How would it feel to have water rushing all over her body, washing away the grit of the last few days?

She toyed with the idea for a while, but couldn't bring herself to go through with it. Not when she had idea where he was, or when he might be back.

She settled for using the washbasin to clean as well as she could, and finger-combed her hair before weaving it into a braid. The mirror above the basin revealed that the bruises on her chin were already fading, and the scrape at her temple looked to be healing as well. Whatever salve he used for her injuries, it seemed to be working. She only hoped that whatever Force techniques he was using to treat his own injuries was aiding him.

After she was done, she tidied the bathroom and then the bedroom as well. But even by then he still hadn't showed up and she found herself back by the window, waiting. Her heartbeat was steadily rising. What was he doing? Planning? Did he even have a plan beyond getting the map from her?

More importantly, what was she going to do when he demanded she give it to him?

Rey flexed her fingers, her mind racing. 

There could only be one reason that he wanted to find Luke Skywalker.

And she _couldn’t_ let that happen.

Her eyes squeezed shut as her hands curled into fists. A part of her argued that Han Solo’s death wasn’t her fault – that she was grieving for a man she’d hardly known. But yet the sight of him – red lightsaber piercing through his chest – was scorched into her heart.

If only she’d tried harder to let Ben come with her when she escaped… Could she have stopped it from happening? Could things have been different?

Could she have saved the father from his son, and the son from himself?

Swallowing past her quickening grief, her eyes fluttered open.

She’d been thrust into a fight that hadn’t been hers - but she still had a choice.

She could choose to give up, to turn her back on all this and allow him to eliminate another member of his family.

Or she could choose to _try_ – try to change what she knew was going to happen.

Try to change _him_.

* * *

Stepping outside, Rey braved the coming storm. The wind cut straight through her, snatching her breath away. For a solid moment she wanted to turn around and go curl up into a blanket – if her clothing was unsuitable the day before, it was doubly more so now – but of course that wouldn’t solve anything. So she hurried towards the TIE fighter, her arms wrapped around her chest.

As she came to the silent ship, the wind howling around its wings, she found no sign of him. But… he must have been around at some point, for the feline was no longer there. All that remained was a spray of darkened blood upon the grass.

She shivered, and closed her eyes as she focused on Ben, trying to use the Force to determine where he was. There was the slightest tug at the edge of her mind, and she followed it, making her way to the warehouse.

Rey hesitated only a moment before slipping inside through the side door. Shutting it behind her, she exhaled a shuddered breath of relief to be out of cold.

Then, she looked up, and found him standing at a workbench a few paces away, staring back at her.

Their eyes met for a long, uneasy moment. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, stark upon his pale skin, and the very air around him seemed fragile, like cracked glass that was about to shatter any moment.

Without a word he returned to his task, and Rey was left standing uncertainly on the spot, feeling as though the wind had been taken from her sails. She glanced around the area. They were in an antechamber to the warehouse proper, amongst abandoned tools and equipment, all covered with a thick layer of dust.

The uncomfortable silence made the small area seem even more gloomy and oppressive.

“How is your shoulder?”

Startled, her gaze snapped back to him. It took her a moment to find her voice. “It’s… fine.”

She almost asked him how _he_ was feeling, before thinking better of it. At the moment, she didn’t sense any of his pain, but that was probably because he was actively shutting her out as he'd said the day before.

“Did you take medication?”

Rey hesitated. She hadn’t expected him to outright _ask_. “I… yes.”

Slowly, he looked back at her, brows dipping into a severe frown as he leveled her with a contemplative stare.

She blanched. Was she really _such_ a terrible liar? Or did he just read her mind again?

Trying to shove her anxiety aside, she made her way over to him and looked down at the workbench, hoping to divert his attention. “So… What are you doing?”

“Gathering tools with which to work on the TIE fighter,” he said.

She nodded. “I saw the damage on the turret-“

“The hyperdrive compartment is of a more immediate concern.”

Her brow twisted in surprise. “It got damaged?”

He hummed beneath his breath. "The shield generator as well."

Rey shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She was suddenly reminded of the questions she’d had ever since she first woke up. How _did_ he manage to save her, and get them both out of Starkiller? And why did he take off on his own, without getting backup, or taking her to another First Order base?

Pointless, really, to wonder such things, when she knew she wouldn’t receive any straight answers from him. But even so, she couldn’t quite bear the quiet tension anymore. With a hint of hopeful brightness in her voice, she asked, “Do you… need some help?”

He went as stiff as a board, and she realised she'd probably asked the wrong thing. Yet when he looked down at her, his eyes were more perplexed than anything else.

“Your shoulder is injured.”

She blinked, thinking of at least a handful of responses she could give to that. The topmost being that he was the very last one to point out injuries, but instead she shrugged. “Well, we desert rats are made of resilient stuff.”

A breath huffed through his nose. “Noted.”

From his even tone she couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or actually agreeing.

Then he shut the toolbox, and without warning he took a step closer to her. Eyes widening, she backtracked as he neared, though she only managed to retreat a step or two until she bumped into the workbench behind her, her palms curling around its edge as she leaned back.  

The corner of his mouth tugged into a darkly amused smirk. He stopped, leaving barely any space between them. Leering closer, he murmured, “Well then, shall I extract the map from that resilient mind of yours, or will you be a good little rat and give it to me?”

Her fingers dug deeper into the bench-top, her eyes locked with his as her heartbeat intensified. “What, just like that? You’re just going to _ask_ and expect me to turn it over?”

He tilted his head slightly, seeming genuinely puzzled at the question. “What else had you been expecting?”

She scowled _._ “Do you really think I’ll just give it to you without a fight?”

A predatory laugh shuddered through his parted lips, revealing a swift flash of teeth. He closed the distance between them and placed a hand on either side of her, caging her against his chest.  

“Yes,” he murmured. “You will.”

Her pulse staggered.

“I _won’t_.”

Another smirk tugged at his mouth, though it was sinister this time. More twisted.

“You will,” he said, his eyes boring into hers. “For either you give me the map, and I will take you with me when I leave this place. Or you _resist_ , and I will break open your mind and _take_ it from you in the most painful way imaginable, until all that’s left of you is an empty husk.”

His lip curled slightly. “And if you think you can beat me again, you’re wrong.”

She swallowed hard, trying to speak past the tightness of her throat. “So that, what? You can kill the rest of your family?”

A bitter laugh fell from his lips as he drew away, putting some distance between them.

“ _Family_ ,” he sneered, as though the very word was something poisonous and vile. “The one thing you so _desperately_ want. The one thing you’ll _never_ have.”

Something wrenched inside of her, something molten and cold at the same time.

“I know who I am,” she said fervently, her spine straightening. “I’m not ashamed of my past, or where I came from. You’re the one who turned his back on _everything_ and _everyone_ who has ever cared about you!”

A dark and heated fury ignited in his eyes, their depths seeming almost endless against his pale skin. His emotions singed hers, powerful and bright in their very nature.

“And what, pray tell,” he said, so quietly, so calmly that it sent shivers racing up her spine. “Would you know about _caring_ , when no one has ever cared about _you_?”

His words were like claws, reaching into her chest and _twisting_.

And oh, he knew _just_ what would hurt her the most.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

“You are impossible,” she breathed.  

“The _map_ , scavenger.”

For several long moments they simply stared at one another, locked in a duel of blazing gazes, each trying to measure the other. Her mind reeled – she _couldn't_ give it to him, not just like that, not when it was her only bargaining chip. Not when he could get rid of her the very moment he had it, not when she wasn't ready to let this be the end.

She knew he would make good on his threats. That this time he wouldn’t underestimate her; that he would throw everything he had at her.

And so, a part of her truly didn’t understand why she was doing this. Why she thought she could change _anything_ when his own words had been that he was _fated_ for darkness–   

But looking into his eyes, that same undeniable feeling seized her once again. No, more than a feeling - it was something instinctive. The same instinct which had made her ask him to escape with her. A instinct fed with shards of tiny little hopes – him saving her, his fear for her when the feline attacked them, carrying her inside, tending her shoulder.

Do glimpses of humanity unmake a monster?

She did not know.

But she had to _try._  

“I’ll trade you for it,” she said.

Confusion cut sharply across his features. “What?”

She inhaled, hoping against hope that she was doing the right thing.

“I will trade you for the map.”

His lip curled in distaste. “Another negotiation. I thought scavengers simply took what little scraps were left to them.”

He was angry, she could feel that, but he was surprised as well. Intrigued perhaps.  

That was all she needed.

She waited.

He took the bait.

“What is it that you want?” he bit out.

Rey gathered her courage, determined. “Time.”

He blinked.

“…Time,” he deadpanned.

She gave a single nod.

“Not your _freedom_?”

She shook her head. “I want time until the TIE fighter is fixed. Only then will I give you the map.”

Many things bloomed across his face, in his eyes. Rage, always burning at the edges, now mingling with vivid disbelief. But something else too. That same look he’d worn when he’d carried her inside, when back in that freezing forest she’d managed to call the lightsaber to _her_ hand.

As though everything about her was incomprehensible.

No one but him had ever looked at her like that.

Finally, he let out a huff through this nose. “It shouldn't take more than a day.”

“Then I’ll take a day,” she confirmed, even though she wondered how a single day could ever be enough when she didn’t even know what she was planning to do during that time. How was she ever going to change his mind? Convince him to abandon the path he firmly believed was the only one he could ever follow?

“And then you’ll give me the map?” he inquired, quirking a brow.

“Yes.”

He shook his head, scoffing. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then look into my damned head and see for yourself that I'm telling the truth! I’m a _scavenger_ , not a swindler.” She thrust out her hand, still keeping his gaze. “When I make a deal, I never break my end of the bargain.”

The stare he pinned her with was so severe and intense she was certain he was about to lunge for her. That he would deny her this only hope and try to force his way into her mind right then and there.

Her out-held fingers were shaking just the tiniest bit.

But then, his gloved hand reached out to shake hers, and she was certain her heart would burst from relief. “Until the TIE fighter is fixed.”

A tiny grin quirked onto her lips. “Until the TIE fighter is fixed.”

* * *

As Kylo Ren stood upon the ladder he’d brought from the warehouse to inspect the TIE fighter, he felt his annoyance grow. The damage was concentrated on the bottom of the ship, right where the maintenance hatch was located. The shot had torn through the lower section of the wing and exploded right on the turrets – the one being destroyed completely in the process. It took some time to pry open the half-melted hatch, but he managed.

Lack of sleep and the constant pain was a frustrating hindrance, as was the tight reins he needed to keep on his mind, lest she sensed more than she should. But what was truly provoking him was the scavenger herself. She stood upon the grass below, relentless in her mission to work on his nerves: asking a thousand questions and giving one suggestion after the other - as if he’d never seen in the inside of a ship before.

He ignored her for the most part. Of course he knew how to inspect one of his own Order’s fighters! But he was uncertain if she was purposely trying to agitate him, or if it was simply a way of distracting herself from the cold. That ridiculous desert garb of hers was certainly not fitting for the current weather, and she kept bouncing on the spot, rubbing her arms and hissing between her teeth.

At least her emotions weren't _assaulting_ him as the day before.

But she was an exasperating and aggravating little thing nonetheless.

Frowning, he focused on studying the cooling system of the hyperdrive, inch by inch, when his gaze settled on the transpacitor, the main part that transferred heat and power away from the hyperdrive to prevent internal damage. Except, where the transpacitor _should_ have been, there was little more than a lump of metal - either the heat from the blast, or the overexertion of the hyperdrive to get them to this planet had caused the fist-sized, vital part to _melt_.

Somehow, the little rat must have sensed the sudden swell of crackling anger that pressed up in him - for the next moment she scrambled up the ladder - the ladder that was barely wide enough for _him_ , let alone for the two of them.

But the action completely derailed his fury. He couldn’t recall ever having been approached so… _unconcernedly_. As though he was nothing to be intimidated by - as though he couldn’t reach out and take her life this very moment! And then, to his deepening consternation, she ducked beneath his arm, all but pressing against him with every inch of her body to peer into the hatch.

“What is it?” she asked. “Why are you so-“

In an instant, her eyes discovered the problem.

“Oh-“

All he was capable of in that moment, was staring at her with a seething glare.

Somehow, he found his voice.

“You knew,” he growled, low and menacing.  

Confusion snapped across her face as she turned her gaze away from the ship to look up at him. A flicker of unease went through him. Her eyes were _right_ there; her face so close his nose would brush against hers if he but lowered his head a hair's breadth.

“What?” she asked, surprised.

He shoved his absurd thoughts aside, and resolutely gathered his fury.

“You said you wanted _time_ until the TIE fighter is fixed. You must have known this part was broken – that without it, we’re all but _stranded_ here! Is that enough time for you to accomplish your doomed schemes?”

She looked somewhere between appalled and confused. “How could I possibly have known?”

“Stop playing games with me you foolish girl!” With a single shift of his body he trapped her between his chest and the steps of the ladder, drawing a startled yelp from her lips. “The only reason I agreed to your ridiculous deal was because it shouldn’t have taken any time to fix the fucking ship!”

Fury rippled from him, and he knew it cut through her when she winced – but she wasn’t a frightful, cowering mess like anyone who had ever felt the brunt of his anger.

She was pushing back, her essence slamming up a wall of sheer determination against which his ocean of anger would break itself.

“You said there were other inhabitants on this planet,” she said, seemingly calm except for her pulse jumping in the hollow of her throat. “If there’s a trader, I’m sure we’ll find a transpacitor. All hyperdrives need them, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to get one.”

She kept his gaze, and continued, a little more hesitantly this time. “I can try to make one out of other parts too, but I’d rather we try to find one first. I’ve never made one before, and as you well know, we can’t risk a transpacitor that doesn’t work as it should. That the hyperdrive didn’t explode on our way here is all but a miracle-” 

A harsh gust of wind almost sent them careening off the ladder – his arm shot out in the nick of time, grabbing the edge of the maintenance hatch while simultaneously curving an arm around her waist. A soft squeak of surprise was snatched from her lips and her hands immediately grabbed onto him, curling into his shirt over his chest.

When the gust died down and they found their balance, she was curved against him, taut and humming with flickers of complicated emotions. His head was bent forward slightly, his nose buried in her hair, his lips all but pressing against her temple.

Several seconds passed. The wind was no longer plucking at them, and yet he still hadn’t let go. Instead, his fingers moved on their own accord, tightening on the small of her back almost possessively. Vaguely, he was aware of the world darkening, doused in storm light, but what did the world matter when she loosened her vice grip on his shirt and gently fanned her hands across his chest?

He was all but frozen, shocked into a stunned stillness in which he could feel her heart as he felt his own, beating in a frantic cadence.

 _Move away, you fool_ , he berated himself, but instead he managed to shift slightly so that he could look down into her eyes.

Her lips parted, and all at once he desired to know what she was thinking – by the stars he wanted to pierce into her mind and _know_ – but she wasn’t giving him anything other than what he could see in her eyes–

And then, it started to rain.

It came down suddenly, fiercely; a downpour that shrunk the world to a curtain of grey. He glanced up in surprise, recalling the sudden storms mentioned in the reports of this place. Then he heard her sharp, astonished inhale, and she was out of his arms and straight into the rain in all but the blink of an eye.

“Oh!” she called, leaving the relative shelter of the TIE fighter behind. “It’s raining! It’s _raining_!”

He could barely hear her through the showering gale, but her exhilaration caught him like a wave, stealing his breath away. He sank back against the ladder, his fingers tightening into fists. Frowning, breathless from something other than his pain, he kept her in his sight, watching as she opened her arms like they were wings and turned her face up towards the sky. Her hair slipped free of its braid, undone by the downpour to flow down her back.

And as suddenly as the deluge had begun, there was the fading in of light, the breaking of clouds, the sunlight transforming each raindrop into shimmering, silver embers. Her tiny frame formed a halo in the storm, as though the sun had known exactly where she was and had chosen to grace her with its rays.

Then, she turned, and upon her lips was a smile that could outshine any sunlight – brilliant and heartrendingly beautiful.

“Ben, it’s raining!” she called, needlessly, and then she laughed – _laughed_. A sound that spun and caught straight beneath his heart.

And like a slap to the face, he realized that she should never have seen this side of her – he had never been _meant_ to see her like this. Smiling, laughing, carefree. A monster like him wasn’t meant to know that smile.

A smile he would never be able to forget.  

He’d never seen anyone so happy. The memories he had of happier times were scraps of faded things, all decades ago now, when he was a boy who knew nothing of the true nature of the world.

And now, here she was, and he felt her happiness shining through him. As though the rain was the single most wonderful thing in the world.

It lasted all of a handful of minutes, before the storm cleared, leaving the dale covered in a contrasting mosaic of shadow and sunlight.

* * *

Rey shivered violently. She was drenched, from head to toe - but oh, she didn’t care! That was _exhilarating_! Wonderful and amazing and-

“One would think you’ve never seen rain before,” he remarked, his voice right behind her. She turned, finding him standing a few steps away. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

“Well, I haven’t, not like this!” She shrugged, her smile still lingering upon her lips. “Jakku doesn’t get a lot of rain, of course, at least not in the region I lived. I’ve only seen one rainstorm, many years ago. And it hadn’t been _anything_ like this! I didn’t even know the sun could shine through the rain like that!”

He gazed out at the landscape, the wind playing through his hair. “Hm. A sunshower.”

Then his impassive umber eyes returned to her. "I suppose they could seem fascinating to those who haven't seen them before."

Rey tilted her head. "But _you_ don't find them beautiful?"

Something in his gaze hardened. "It is only a rainstorm."

"And the desert is just sand but yet it is beautiful to me, in its own way."

He scoffed – he did a lot of that, she noticed, as though everything she had to say was something to be scoffed at – but instead of feeling annoyed, she smiled. "You shouldn't judge everything so harshly. You'll only miss out on the beautiful things all around you. Give the world a chance to surprise you."

A frown twisted sharply across his brow, the mark only enhancing the severity of the expression. Slowly, her smile slipped away.

“You’ll catch your death out here,” he said. “Come.”

With that, he started to make his way towards the cluster of dwellings, without so much as a backwards glance to see if she was following - simply assuming she’d do as she’d been told.

Rey suppressed a frustrated sigh. If it weren’t for the fact that she was cold and wet, she would have stayed there simply out of spite. As it was, she followed. She probably shouldn’t have drenched her only clothing, but she couldn’t find it within herself to regret it.

But by the time they reached the house, she was rethinking that sentiment. She was shivering so badly her teeth were clattering and trembles were shaking through her whole body. At least she felt a lot cleaner, and the rain had even washed away some of the blood that had stained her garb.

He paused in front of the steps leading up to the doorway, causing her to almost bump into him.

“Dry off. I’ll be back,” he commanded and marched passed her, leaving her staring after him with a perplexed expression. He headed towards one of the other houses, coaxing open its door with the Force.

She scowled. Did he even realize that he didn’t have to order her around? That she was capable of thinking for herself?

Probably not.

Shaking her head, she went inside and straight towards the bathroom. She fetched a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders until the worst of the shivers subsided, then she dried off as best she could and sunk down on one of the kitchen chairs to towel her hair.

_I never thought I’d be wishing for Jakku’s scorching heat, but by the stars a little warm sunshine would’ve been nice right about now…_

Her thoughts returned to the moment before the storm had hit. He’d been furious about the transpacitor, and she understood that – they couldn’t leave if it didn’t get fixed – but she couldn’t suppress the tiniest bit of relief that it would give her some more time in which to…

Well, she didn’t rightly know. She’d asked for time, but she didn’t have an actual _plan_.

And would he keep to their deal now? After he accused her of trying to trick him?

There was nothing stopping him from doing what he wanted.

For how could she forget those words he’d said to her back in the interrogation chamber?

_‘You know I can take whatever I want…’_

She shivered.

All of this was too much, and she had no idea what she was doing. She was entirely out of her depth. How was she going to stop him from doing what he believed was right? She barely knew anything about him at all - she didn’t know him as a _person_. He would never trust her, and she knew she shouldn’t trust him either.

And yet…

In the seconds before it had started to rain, with his arm curved around her waist, with his heart thrumming against her palms, all she’d wanted-

 _No_.

She couldn’t allow him to gain even more control over her than he already had.

Once she was mostly dry, it didn’t take long for her to realize she hadn’t eaten anything yet. She found a pot in one of the cupboards and set it on the burner. Once lit, the small flame lent some warmth to her icy hands, and she held her fingers as close as possible until the cold faded away. Then she opened several cans of soup and dumped their contents into the pot. Snatching a large spoon from one of the drawers, she stirred the soup as it began heating up.

Rey spared a passing thought for why all of these things – the food, the utilities, the medicine – were just left behind. But she supposed that the First Order probably had more important things on their agenda than no-doubt forgotten houses on _inconsequential_ planets.

She'd just switched off the burner when he came back inside, shutting the door behind him. Her eyes flew up, but he walked straight past her towards the kitchen table to put down the collection of things he'd been carrying.

Quietly, she watched from where she stood, when he suddenly turned to face her.

“Here,” he said, holding out something towards her.

Her gaze flit down, to see what she thought was a blanket of dark material. Taking it, it fanned out and she realized it was a coat – one made of black cloth, similar to the ones she'd seen some of the First Order personnel wearing.

Shocked, she looked back up at him.

“That was the only one I could find. Figured it should serve.”

Before she could respond, he had already returned to sorting through the other supplies he'd fetched.

She blinked, her heart clenching. He'd brought her a coat. Because she'd been cold.

She knew she shouldn't read too much into it – no, she shouldn't read anything into it at all. It wasn’t kindness. It was simple practicality. That in itself she could appreciate for what it was worth.

But then, when she shrugged it on, and it enveloped her in gentle warmth – had he been carrying it against his chest? – she couldn't stop the grateful _thank you_ from escaping her lips.

He only stilled for the briefest of moments, a subtle nod the only acknowledgment she received.

When she went back to ladling the soup into two bowls, her lips curved into an unrestrained smile and she momentarily buried her cold nose into the lapels of the coat, giddy against all reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has supported my fanfic. Thank you for the kudos, reviews and comments – and thank you for reading. You might think that leaving feedback isn’t much, but to an aspiring writer it means the world. (Especially when English is not my first language xD). I appreciate it, I really do!
> 
> And if any of you ever want to just chat about Reylo (or Star Wars, or any of the other ships in this amazing fandom) don’t hesitate to send me a message or follow me on [tumblr](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/)!


	7. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Song:** [Solo by Ludovico Einaudi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zj_yL1Od6rk)

* * *

# 7

## Surrender

_Stay with me, don't let me go_

_Because there's nothing left at all_

_Stay with me, don't let me go_

_Until the Ashes of Eden fall_

Ashes of Eden, Breaking Benjamin

* * *

With the soup simmering on the stove, Rey came over to the table to help Ben sort through the supplies. He'd fetched more medpacs, blankets, dried rations and some other foods she did not recognise. Once the supplies were packed away, Rey silently handed him a bowl of warm soup. He took it, and for several moments they ate in an amicable silence that was as strange as it was welcome.

Hastily blowing on every spoonful before wolfing it down, she relished in the warmth it returned to her body after the coldness of the rain. She didn't take note of the way he watched her out of the corner of his eye, his expression caught somewhere between distaste and bemusement.

“Do you always eat as though you're a starved animal?”

Slowly, she lowered the spoon back into her now-empty bowl, glancing up at him with a hard glint in her eye. “This may surprise you, but for most of my life, food hasn't exactly been easy to come by.”

“I can't imagine why,” he said.

She frowned.  “Do you always look down on everyone you meet?”

“Yes.”

An incredulous huff escaped between her lips. “Not even the cockiest thugs I've come across could compete with your ego complex.”

It was probably not the best idea to constantly challenge him, but instead of the anger she’d expected, a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Occupational hazard.”

Blinking, Rey almost choked in suprise.

_Did he just make a joke?_

Before she could properly react though, his features hardened again. “You said you could make a replacement for the transpacitor.”

Drawing a deep, steadying breath through her nose, she gave a tentative nod. “It’s not impossible, but I'll have to see if there's the necessary-”

“You'll do it.” His authoritative tone was the type she imagined was used to receiving no arguments in return - but she wasn’t one of his soldiers to be ordered around.

“Do I look like a miracle worker?” she asked. “If we can't find the necessary parts here, then there's no other option than finding a new one. How far is the nearest settlement?”

After a moment, he said, “A few hours, if traveling by hovercraft.”

“That’s not far at all! Why don’t we just-“

“ _No_.”

“Why not? It’s not as if I can escape. You'll just find me again-”

“Don’t test me, scavenger. The answer is _no_.”

Releasing a frustrated sigh, Rey placed her bowl aside. She was wondering how she would make him see sense, and yet the words she muttered had nothing to do with their predicament but rather the twisting sense of loss she felt each he called her scavenger. “I do have a name, you know.”

He let out a dark laugh, and her eyes flicked up.

“Do you?” He met her gaze with a mocking sneer. “I’d imagined it was simply another thing you took for yourself. After all, why does a scavenger need a name?”

Rey stilled, unable to hide the hurt that flashed across her face.

How was it possible for the same broken man who had asked her to stay with him the other night - who had spoken her name like it had been a _lifeline -_ to be so cuttingly cruel?

Her name was the only thing she’d ever had.  

It was the only thing she remembered from her childhood, her family.

Her name was _Rey_.

She closed her eyes, uncaring whether he was watching her or whether he could sense every single one of her vulnerable emotions. Jaw tightening, she fought against the sudden desire to just give up - to just accept that there wasn’t something more to him. That whatever part of her was holding onto that hope was _delusional_.

It would be so much easier.

And far less painful.

She rose to her feet - unknowing where she intended to go - but a sharp ache flared through her shoulder. Wincing, she hissed, reaching up to touch the wound. She hadn’t exactly been taking enough care to not put any unnecessary strain on the injury. Slowly, she rolled it out, gently testing its boundaries.

“You’re in pain," he said.

Now she was the one who wanted to scoff. “Your mindreading abilities are fantastic."

“Come here.”

She turned to face him, anger twisting in her gut as she watched him move over to the counter and open the medpac.

“Just leave me alone,” she sighed. “I can take care of myself.”

Pausing, he settled his gaze on her. “If that's the case, then why haven't you taken any medicine?”

She stiffened, caught in her lie. “I don't need it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “We both know that's not true. So why don't you stop lying and tell me?”

A brief groan escaped her throat. “Because I can't _read_ , alright? At least not nearly good enough to understand those complicated labels!”

Confusion flit across his features, so quick she’d barely caught it. But his usual scowl was quick to slip back in place, and he returned his gaze to the medicine box. “Take off your coat. I want to inspect your stitches.”

Rey stared at him for a long moment, pulsing with frustration.

Then she released a weary breath, annoyed and hurt and tired. What was the point of resisting? She didn’t have the energy for another argument.

Relenting, she removed her coat and shrugged off her neckline.

* * *

Kylo Ren clenched his teeth as he busied himself with the medical supplies, staring unseeingly down at the bacta salve in his palm.

She hadn't taken any medicine, because she could not read well enough to understand the labels. Of everything she could possibly have said, he hadn't expected that. Though he realized now he probably should have – after all, what type of education could she possibly have had?  

He felt angry, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

When he looked back up, she'd gathered her hair and draped it over her right shoulder, exposing her neck to him.

A breath snagged in his throat. He all but froze, unable to tear his gaze away from the swoop of her neckline, the slope of her shoulder, the dusting of freckles over honeyed skin.

Furiously clamping down on the warmth washing through his chest, he vehemently denied the spark of whatever this absurd feeling was, just as he'd done earlier in the rain.

His movements were strained as he quietly checked her stitches, applied the salve and covered the injury in fresh bacta bandages. The cut was healing well enough – it shouldn’t hinder her for more than a few days at the most. Once he was done, he gestured for her to get dressed and retrieved the pain medication to place it on the counter.

“Take two every eight hours. Expect them to make you feel drowsy.”

He was closing the medpac when she spoke, her voice quiet and demure, so unlike the fire it had held only a minute ago. “Is it like this for everyone?”

Turning his gaze to her, his brow furrowed with confusion. “What?”

She was staring down at the bottle of pills, clutching it with slender fingers. Slowly, she looked up at him.

“Can all Force users sense each other like this? Each other's thoughts and… feelings? Each other's presence? Is it like this for everyone? Or is it… just… us?”

A swell of wildfire panic seared through him, too swift to contain, and from the flicker in her eyes – from the panic jolted back at him – he knew she'd felt it. But how much had she felt of his confliction, of the sparks she’d ignited within his heart when by all rights there should be nothing but cold darkness?

Or had he managed to shut her out of that at least?

Staring into those awaiting eyes, he knew he shouldn't give her the answer.

For it would be a like giving in to the very thing he’d been trying to _fight_ this whole time.

And yet he couldn't stop the truth from flowing across his lips.  

“No,” he answered, knowing the inner words reached her too: _It is not like this for everyone._

The questions, the uncertainty, the confusion – all of it bloomed in those eyes. Eyes the colour of desert sand, as wide and infinite as the dunes she called home.

Her lips parted slightly, her gaze searching his to find some understanding. But he had none to offer. And instead he concentrated on keeping his features neutrally cold, trying to guard himself against her so that she wouldn't be able to read him more than she already could.

Stiffly, he nodded down at the pills. “Drink them. I'll wake you up later.”

With that, he headed back outside, all the while feeling her gaze on his back.  

* * *

Kylo Ren wasn’t sure how far he’d walked, but by the time he finally stopped his boots and trousers were soaked from his impulsive venture into the drenched fields.

_I should not have told her._

She hadn’t needed to know that this… _bond_ between them was different. That it was as confusing to him as it was to her. No, more than confusing. _Troubling._ He hadn’t even wanted to admit it to himself – that it was _different_ – but then she just asked, as if she’d already suspected. He should have let her think that he was in control of it all along, but even as the defiant thought passed through his mind he knew it would have been futile to lie to her.

_Damn her._

His heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

All day and all of the previous night, he’d waited. Waited for the slightest stirring in the Force, waited and yearned for his Master’s presence to slither into his mind.

But the Force was quiet.

Too quiet.

The tether between him and Snoke was unlike the link between himself and the girl. While he loathed comparing the two connections, what he held with his Master was not a bond in the same sense. It was a chain, a leash. A tether of an Apprentice to his Master. He could speak if spoken to, could perhaps even give the chain a tug or guard himself from it for some time with considerable effort – but he could not use it to fully reach out.

Strange… Until he’d experienced this connection with the scavenger, he’d never truly questioned his link to his Master. The torture he’d endured during its forging was simply one of the many necessary steps he’d taken across the years.

And yet, he’d never even imagined that such things could be so–  

With a soft grunt, he shoved the thoughts aside. All that mattered was that it shouldn’t be much longer now. Soon Snoke would reach out and find him, and give him the guidance he needed, the assurance that he was on the right path.

But as Kylo Ren stared out across the sunset painting the rain-swept fields into shades of gold and orange, it was not his Master’s guidance that came to him in the solace.

It was her words that rose up with the wind.

_‘I do have a name you know…’_

A hint of bitterness tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He did know.

How could ever forget?

Even now he could clearly recall the moment in that forest when he’d flung her away like a mere obstacle in his path – and the resulting wave of panic that swelled from that traitorous Stormtrooper. The way his fear for her had manifested in her name he’d called out. Her name, that echoed throughout the woods.

So profound the feeling had been that Kylo Ren had wanted to choke on the sentimentality clinging to it. At the time, he’d been completely astounded, wondering how an insignificant scavenger could possibly be so important that a Stormtrooper defied his ingrained training and turned his back on his enemy, to simply kneel by her side and say her name.

Now, he thought, maybe… he was beginning to understand.

* * *

When he woke her up hours later, she was groggy from the medicine. She moaned softly, shaking her head as she curled tighter into herself, her shins gently pressing against his thigh where he sat beside her on the bed.

He shifted slightly, but did not move away entirely.  

“Wake up, scavenger,” he said, a tad harsher this time.

Slowly her eyes fluttered open and she sleepily peered up at him from beneath long lashes. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t fully awake yet, but her eyes seemed peaceful somehow, lacking the fear and the pain that had lingered there ever since they’d first crossed paths. Lacking the guardedness they’d held each time she’d looked at him.

His jaw clenched, and he held out a cup towards her.

She blinked, slowly, before sluggishly sitting up. Drawing her knees against her chest she raked a hand through her tousled hair. It had mostly dried by now, but the rain had left it somewhat frizzy, giving her a disheveled, almost-vulnerable appearance.

It did something strange to his heartbeat.

“What is it?” she asked, eyeing the steaming cup.

“Tea.”

Hazel eyes flicked up to his. “You made me tea.”

“I need you coherent if you’re going to attempt to be of use in repairing the ship – this will help wake you up.”

His voice held an indifferent tone, but for some reason it didn’t quite sweep away the wide-eyed look on her face, nor did it diminish the feeling emanating from her. Appreciation, mingled with shock. The same feeling that had pulsed from her in that moment he’d handed her the coat. But whether it was because _he_ was the giver, or because she couldn’t comprehend _anyone_ giving her something – that he did not know.

At least she finally reached out and took the tea, and he found himself watching how her slender fingers wrapped around the cup. She brought it to her nose, inhaling the steam.

“Oh, it smells good…” Taking a long, seemingly appreciative sip, her gaze drifted back to him. “Where's yours?”

Suppressing a flicker of bewilderment, he wondered why she would ask. This wasn’t a token of some sort. He was merely being practical _,_ giving her something that would chase away the lethargy.

“I've already had two cups while you were sleeping,” he answered simply.

A smile slowly quirked at the corner of her mouth, a twinkle of mirth lighting up her eyes.

Against his will, he was puzzled.

“What?” he asked gruffly.

She gave a small shrug of her delicate shoulders. “I just find it amusing that the commander of the First Order likes to drink tea.”

Well. He was hardly the _commander_.

But he supposed that wasn’t the point of her statement. And before he quite knew it, he muttered, “Don't let it get out. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Both her smile and her eyes widened. “And he likes to crack dry jokes too.”

Something ghosted across his lips – not a smile, surely – as he rose to his feet. “When you're done, come to the warehouse. I’ve found some possibly suitable parts for the transpacitor.”

* * *

They worked late into the night, the tension between them increasing as Rey got nowhere with creating a new transpacitor. There simply wasn’t enough suitable replacement parts to build a custom one – and aside from that, she’d never made one before, and was working purely from memory. She could feel his frustration like static crackling through the air. It continually jolted against her emotions, both of them getting more and more agitated as their feelings played off the other’s.

While she begrudgingly understood that he was finding it challenging in deferring to her – a girl who he saw as nothing more than a worthless scavenger – she couldn’t get anything done with the way he argued with her on every point and tried to deny that she knew what she talking about. Even when it was clear that her knowledge surpassed his, in this matter at least.

Finally, she’d had enough. She stormed off into the night, slamming the door so hard that it sprang back open with a loud clang.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he called after her.

 _Where the hell does it look like?_ she thought at him, and for good measure, shouted across her shoulder, “Away from you!”

With his long strides he quickly caught up to her. She knew he was going to try to grab her wrist, and spun to face him the moment before he could. “Just - _stop_! You’re impossible!”  

He glared down at her, his seething anger flickering against her, but she shook her head. “I don’t care how angry you are! And I know you think I’m just a stupid, worthless scavenger – but believe it or not, I _am_ trying to help. Neither one of us wants to be stuck here with the other, but unless we’re going to attempt to work together, I don’t see how either of us are ever going to be able to leave!”

Her chest heaved with the fiery emotions spinning through her. “You might think I’m going to attempt to escape – but I won’t. You would find me long before I could ever get away! So either we head to a settlement and find a replacement part, or we can go for another round of irritating the shit out of each other! Take your pick, but either way, I’m going inside before I freeze.”

Even in her haze of anger, she noticed the stunned disbelief seeping into his expression – as though he couldn’t comprehend anyone speaking to him in such a way. But she was too worked up and too tired to care. Just when she thought that she was making the tiniest sliver of progress he went right back to being a temperamental jackass. Granted, she knew he was in pain, and that he hadn’t slept in who knows how long–

But she shouldn’t have expected anything else. He was a volatile and destructive man, and _she_ was the one playing with fire.

When she stepped into the house, shivering both from the cold and her fury, she was surprised to find that he was only a few paces behind her.

She paused.

His tall frame filled the doorway.

In the darkness of the kitchen, the silence quickly became heavy and oppressive. As she was about to turn away from him once more, he succeeded in catching her arm this time.

“Why?” he asked.

She slowly shook her head, frowning. “Why, _what_?”

“As far as I can sense, your wish to help is earnest, but I don’t _understand_ it. Why are you not fighting me at every turn?”

He was searching her face, and she felt him inquisitively brush against her mind, but she gave a resentful huff and tried to wrench her wrist free.

“Because you _threatened_ me, remember?”

But his fingers only curled tighter and with a firm tug, he drew her closer to him.

“You could have left me to die on those stairs, but you did _not_. You could have killed me back in that forest, but you did not-“

“Let me go!” she demanded, but he only pulled her closer, and with a gentleness that shocked her into stillness, he caught her face between his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Tell me why you keep trying to turn me from my path, when I’m nothing more than the very creature you called me to be.”

The huskily spoken words pierced straight through her core.

She swallowed, hard, staring into his frighteningly-defenseless eyes.

Her gaze softened, grew anguished.

“The same reason why you could have taken the map from me this morning – why you can take it from me right now… but you _don’t_. The same reason you agreed to my deal. You _want_ to be turned from your path. I felt it when I first looked into your mind… I can feel it right now.”

The stark vulnerability on his face slowly iced over, his fingers slipping away from her face as he withdrew. And Rey could only watch with deepening torment as the gentleness in his umber eyes was eclipsed by malice.

“When I find Luke Skywalker, I will _end_ him as I had should have all those years ago,” he said, every word laced with intent. “You cannot stop me, scavenger. No one can stop me.”

Throat constricted, Rey nodded, a sad smile on her lips. “You’re right, Ben. I can’t stop you… Only _you_ can do that.”

Turning away, she headed through the kitchen towards the hallway. “You can sleep in the bedroom. I’ll take the office.”

Without another word, she disappeared into the tiny room and shut the door behind her.

* * *

Hours later, Kylo Ren lay on his back, staring up at the bedroom ceiling. It was quiet, even the wind had died down, and his breathing seemed overly loud and laboured in the small room.

His ribcage felt like fire, embers stirring through his chest with every breath.

The dark side’s techniques of channeling strong emotions into healing was not a simple or forgiving process – nor one that could be put to constant use. For one, such power was only efficient when the emotions of the wielder were burning as white-hot as a blazing flame - not fading into exhaustion. And for another, if not applied with care and skill, one could begin to draw from the very life-force itself.

Thus where the pain had been bearable, even useful, it now returned to its full onslaught as he let the channeling go. For the time being, at least. He was at the end of his rope. Having barely had a few hours of sleep in the last two days, he was faltering.

And his ragged mind was haunted by words that scraped and gnawed and would not let him go, despite the fatigue dragging at every inch of his being.

He forcibly shut his eyes.

_'You want to be turned from your path.’_

Agonized, sharp inhale.

_'I felt it when I first looked into your mind… I can feel it right now.’_

Deep, shuddering exhale.

_'You’re right, Ben… I can’t stop you… Only you can do that…’_

Once more, his eyes flew open.

_‘Ben…’_

How was he meant to sleep, to reach for a sense of calm, when everything about her threatened to make him come undone?

This… _thing_ between them needed to be put to an end. She saw too much. Sensed too much. Felt too much. And he in turn was drawn to her in ways he knew was not rational or wise. It made him feel things he shouldn’t be _capable_ of feeling anymore.

It was already making him weak.   

He needed to strengthen his resolve. If he was ever going to show the galaxy the true power of the dark side, if he was ever going to prove to Snoke where his loyalties lay, then he could no longer be influenced by her brightness.

But until he knew how to sever the bond, he would have to settle for teaching her how to properly set up a mental guard. Perhaps then he could at least focus only on his own mind, and not hers as well.

Even at this very moment, he was aware of her luminous presence – like a shaft of light in the corner of one's vision, always drawing one’s gaze. This whole time he’d been aware of her as though there wasn’t a wall separating them. She couldn’t sleep either, the gnawing cold seeping into her bones where she was curled up on a chair in the office. When she’d retreated, she’d left only with her coat, and of course she would not fetch a blanket, as they were all in the bedroom, with him.

A ghost of her shiver crept down his spine.

As if he needed another hindrance withholding him from slumber. He clenched his jaw, rubbed his hand across his face and released a frustrated huff.

_Forget about her. Sleep._

And yet, the more he fought against it, the more he opened himself to her essence.

_Damn this bond to all hell._

Before he quite knew what he was thinking, he sent the words as one would throw a knife – sharp and cutting: _Would you just come here?_

And felt her shock as though he’d touched a livewire.

**_…What? Why?_ **

_Your ceaseless shivering is an unbearable nuisance._

A flare of indignation - he could practically see it twisting across her features.

**_You really are insufferable._ **

_I am not the one keeping us awake._

Something like a scoff permeated her words, _**Aren’t you?** **You can blame me all you like, but I know your pain has worsened again. I can feel it with my every breath.**_

A frown creased his brow. He’d thought he was yet making a decent effort of blocking her out from his pain, but he must have let his guard slip. Yet another reason it would be prudent to teach her the proper techniques. This connection was an infuriating weight on his mind, one entirely too receptive to every thought and sensation.

 _I thought it was of no inconvenience to you_ , he said, unable restrain himself from mocking her words from the day before. Pitiful maybe. He didn’t quite understand why he felt the need to lash out at her with every opportunity. Typically he was above such things. Probably because his mere presence used to be enough to keep anyone in line. Not her, though, infuriating little thing that she was.

**_It is when you’re being a bastard._ **

He snorted. That’s the most flattering of any name he’d ever been called before.

_Scavenger. Come. Here._

**_Just leave me alone._ **

_Either you come here, or I’m coming to get you. Decide._

A few minutes slipped by in which he was certain she wouldn’t budge. He was about to rise and make good on his threat–

When the bedroom door creaked open.

Unbidden, his heart gave a sudden, staggering leap, leaving him briefly stunned in place.

He spared a moment to berate himself. What had possessed him to tell her to come here? Clearly he hadn’t thought this through. He should just give her a blanket and be done with it. And _yet_ … seeing her standing there, shuddering from the cold…

Silently, he shifted over to the other side of the bed to make room for her.

A second slipped by.

She didn’t move, waiting like a little rat in the darkness.

He suppressed a sigh. “Lie. Down.”

“This is ridiculous,” she murmured, but she did step inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

And then lingered for another moment or two, her wary indecisiveness grating against his every nerve. He was contemplating marching over and swooping her into his arms – relishing in the furious expression that would no-doubt contort across her features – when she released a short sigh.

She approached, and as with her every nearing step his heart pounded harder against his ribs, he was truly coming to regret this madness. Reaching the bed, she hesitantly sat down on its edge, all the while eyeing him as though he was planning something despicable.

“If I recall,” he murmured, hard-pressed to contain his unrest, “ _You’re_ the one who would bite. Not I.”

She released another sigh. “I… just-“

Perhaps to cover his unreasonable and insensible panic, he gave a cutting remark. “Do not mistake my practicality for _caring_ , scavenger. Lie down, or go and freeze.”

The words had the desired effect, giving him back a sense of control–

But the surge of her fury took him by surprise.

She was back on her feet – he felt her defiance that she would indeed rather freeze than stay another moment in his presence – but before he even knew it, he caught her wrist.

Everything stopped, condensed to the heat throbbing through his blood, to her pulse flickering against his thumb.

Unmoving, he stared fixedly up at her shocked face as though he wasn’t suddenly jerked back into a sense of vulnerability. As though his actions did not belie the very words he had just spoken.

In a heartbeat, he took in the way her chest rose and fell, how his own breathing was suddenly outrageously fast and much too deep. Seconds dragged by and neither one of them moved, as he was held prisoner by his own betrayal to his sensible self.

So many words suddenly caught in his throat, so many ridiculous things he couldn’t possibly, _truly_ , want to say. What did it matter what she thought, if she was hurt by his words, by his hands? What did it any of it matter when she’d admitted to wanting to take him away from this path, when it was all he could ever hope to be–

She glanced away, set her jaw.

A soft breath huffed through her nose.

A surrender.

For a heart-stopping, mystifying second, he wondered if she did not perhaps understand him better than he did himself – but then the feeling passed when she slid beneath the covers, settling into the space he’d been lying minutes ago. Slowly, he too eased back down and released her hand. The bed was by no means large, yet allowed for enough space to lay side by side, without strictly having to touch.

Her heart was beating like the fluttering of a bird’s wings, so fast and pronounced he could feel it like his own, a second heartbeat hammering away at his ribs.

And she was still shivering.

“You really are a nuisance,” he mumbled, though any venom the words may have had was obliterated as he turned on his side and reached his arm across her waist to pull her close. She squeaked, torn between scrambling away and – concern for his ribs?

“It’s fine,” he snapped.

Slowly, stiffly, she settled beside him. After a few moments, she turned on her side and snuggled into his chest, the crest of her head resting gently beneath his chin.

If she noted his racing heart beneath her fingertips, she didn’t say a word.

A strange silence settled over them; she was lying in his arms, like a lamb curled up against a lion, and yet she was not afraid. And should it not have been unbearable for them both? Why did he not feel repulsed by her presence, but instead somehow soothed by her soft breathing and her hands against his chest?  
  
She'd stopped shivering.  
  
"About earlier," he found himself murmuring, and she tilted her head slightly to indicate she was listening. He tried to ignore the feel of her cheek against his collarbone, of her hair against his shoulder. "I... might have been... a bit unreasonable. About the transpacitor."  
  
"Oh?" she hummed, and he could hear the smile in her voice.  
  
"I said _a bit_."

Her soft chuckle chimed against his skin. "I'm pretty sure that translates as, _I was a total jackass_."  
  
To his surprise a snort of amusement escaped him. "You have a charming vocabulary."

"I haven't even gotten started. I can curse you in all the native Jakku languages, if you like."

"That sounds terrifying."

"Oh, it is," she assured him. "Teedospeak is the worst. Offend a teedo and you're likely to be called _ku'ri n'älg_ \- wicked famine that consumes the deserts."

"I take you speak from experience?"

"Of course," she chuckled. "The teedo and I generally didn't get along. I wasn't willing to worship their deity, _R'iia._ so they often resorted to calling me _X'us'R'iia_ \- the goddess' terrible breath, which they say causes draught, hunger and terrible storms on Jakku. I was quite flattered, actually, being likened to such a force of nature."

Despite himself, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "Who wouldn't be flattered?"

"You, I suppose."

His brow creased, intrigued. "Why is that?"

He imagined she'd say something about his ego complex, as she'd called it earlier - but she remained silent for a long moment, and when she spoke, there was no teasing lilt in her tone.

"Flattery isn't about the truth," she murmured, her fingertips stirring against his heartbeat. "And... well, at least in my eyes, you are a force of nature in your own right. So, flattery would be unnecessary."

He stilled, and in the wake of her words he realised he'd been twirling a lock of her hair around his index finger.

"Sleep," he said. "You need your rest."

Her only response was to shift slightly, and brush her nose against the hollow of his throat before she let out a long breath, and whispered, "Goodnight."

* * *

As Kylo Ren was finally lulled to sleep by the warmth of a tiny scavenger at his side, he fell right back into that dream.

The dream with sunlight and blossoming trees, with that almost-familiar melody drifting through the perfumed air. Just as before, he felt drawn to it, the hummed tune luring him through the orchard. He wandered on, low-hanging branches snagging his hair to scatter delicate, pink blossoms across his shoulders.

It led him towards a crumbling wall. Beyond its mossy stones, there was another tree, larger than the rest, a swing hanging from one of its thick branches.

The melody was closer now.

And all at once, it stopped. “Ben?”

The answer sprang to the tip of his tongue, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then–

**_Kylo Ren._ **

The world of sunlight _shattered_.

His breath was wrenched from his lips as he fell hard to his knees, agony shooting through his injured side. Before he even looked up he already knew what he would see. He could feel it, slicing through every vibrating bone in his body.

Darkness; impenetrable, choking darkness–

But it wasn’t true darkness – it wasn’t the absence of light.

It was _nothingness_.

And in the center of this place, where the blossoming tree had been only moments before, stood the gloomed shroud of Snoke.

This was no dream.

 _Supreme Leader,_ the telepathic words left his reeling mind before he could properly think what he would say. He tried to call upon that feeling that he’d longed for – the craving for his Master’s guidance, the feeling of rightness, of victory, of praise, of being told he was on the right path. 

Snoke didn’t move, and yet the air grew thicker.

He couldn’t breathe, held by an invisible choke-hold.

**_It took me a perplexingly long time to reach you, Apprentice._ **

Words that were an avalanche in their own right, spoken like a whisper but thundered through his head.

**_Your Force signature was weak, all but faltering._ **

And disappointment that clouded the air, clouded his lungs, choking, _choking_ –   

**_You had fulfilled your mission of killing Han Solo. You had escaped the fall of Starkiller. And yet you did not return._ **

Desperately, he tried to inhale, only to panic even further when he could _not_ – at the same time, some part of his brain knew he had to choose his words with careful precision. That he found himself balancing upon the very edge of a knife.

_No, Master. I had been gravely injured. The location to which I fled was one of necessity. But it would yet serve as a stepping stone to the fulfillment of your plans._

There was a pause, the slightest easing of the hold upon his throat.  

**_The girl?_ **

_She is in my possession. She will lead me to Luke Skywalker and the last Jedi shall meet his end at my hands, just as Han Solo did._

The choke-hold eased away, and Kylo Ren gasped for air – but the next moment he was hoisted up and pinned in the inky darkness, his Master’s silver eyes piercing straight through his soul. 

**_If you fail me, Kylo Ren, there will be nowhere in the galaxy you will ever be safe from my wrath._ **

And just as suddenly as he had assaulted his mind, Snoke withdrew.

There was the sensation of falling, falling down through infinite emptiness–

Suddenly, Kylo Ren woke up.

His entire being lit up in dread. For a terrifying second he was pinned to the bed as he’d been pinned within his Master’s hold - wild, fearful eyes stared unseeingly up at the ceiling, his panting breaths too loud in the quiet.

Vaguely, he was aware of _her_ , stirring at his side, but he moved as though chased by his demons and fled from the room.

* * *

Rey woke up with a pounding heart and _his_ fear in her throat. Panic – his, she was certain it was _his_ , but yet it became hers – wrenched through her, chasing away sleep and leaving her staring wide-eyed at the breathless man beside her.

“Ben? Ben, what’s wrong?”

Within a single breath, he flew out of bed and stormed from the room.

“Ben!” she called, truly afraid now. What could possibly have upset him so? She was certain no mere nightmare could have caused the maelstrom of emotions that radiated from him.

She hurried after him, without thought to draw on her boots, and when she stepped outside through the kitchen doorway, she froze in her steps. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, barefoot in the grass, his entire being quaking. He couldn’t breathe – _she_ couldn’t breathe – she was pinned, locked in the eye of the storm of his emotions. His shoulders were ridged, hands tensed into fists, rapid exhales fogging into the cold.

With her breath suspended and her heart throbbing, Rey made her way down the steps. There was no thought guiding her, only the need to calm him.

Pausing on the last step, she slowly reached out-

He twisted away.  

“Don’t,” he growled, low and deep and _pained_.

That’s what made her still.

The pain in his voice, the pain twisting like a knife through her ribs.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him as he left into the twilight dawn.  

* * *

Rey couldn’t still her thrumming heartbeat. He’d been gone only a few minutes and she’d remained on the stairs, gripping the railing as though she intended to snap it in two. What the hell was going on? One minute, she’d still been sleeping peacefully, the next, she was yanked straight from her dreams and into his unyielding terror. And with every second that slipped by his tumultuous emotions only intensified, building and building–

Until, suddenly, it burst from him like a raging flood.  

In an instant she was moving, drawn to his cyclonic spirit. She was only a few paces away from the warehouse, when his furious scream cut through the air, and straight through her heart.

Rising panic grabbing at her throat, she ran, entering through the side door to see the antechamber turned into a scene of chaos. Equipment and furniture and tools, even the parts they’d been working on, it all lay scattered across the floor as though it had been hit by the very force of nature she'd called him to be–

Gaze flickered up, to see him whirl back and slam his fists into the wall with a monstrous roar.

His blinding rage made her feel sick, _dizzy_ , but somehow she made her way to his side. There was blood on his gloveless hands, frighteningly bright against his pale skin, streaming down across his knuckles.

“Ben, stop!” She braced against his anger like one would brace against the wind. It filled the small room, suffocating in its intensity, but she tried to hold firm, tried to push back–

“Please, stop!”

In the blink of an eye, he rounded on her – a flash of wild, burning eyes – caught her wrist in his bloody hand, and _snarled_.

The moment fractured into splinters – she felt him gather the Force, felt her helplessness as it hit her like a wave, felt the breath knocked from her lungs as it sent her soaring through the air. 

A scream tore from her lips, stilling the instant she crashed into the wrecked remains of the workbench. Every bone in her body jarred from the impact.

The world spun. Her ears rang. Something warm and wet trailed across her cheek. 

A breathlessness assaulted her, pain in her ribs. His? Hers? Somehow she pressed up onto her elbows, attempting to sit up as she dazedly watched him near.

“Get up! Defend yourself”

The demand snapped through her like a compulsion, urging her body to rise and do his bidding. She fought it, shaking her head as she rose to her feet, desperately trying to clear the ringing in her ears.

“I’m not going to fight you.”

Her voice sounded far off, detached. But as she’d regained her balance, he called something metallic into his hand – and she barely had a moment to register he intended to use it as a weapon, before he rushed towards her.

She spun to the side, dread sinking through her stomach as he swung the metal shaft like a sword, barely missing her.

“Ben, stop!” she exclaimed. “Just… calm-“

Her words were met with a fierce growl.

He was unreachable, like an animal backed into a corner preparing to fight for its life.

She forgot how to breathe, aware only of him and shards of his frenzied emotions piercing through her. Rage, hatred, terror… confliction… denial? Heart racing with adrenaline, she scrambled for a plan, for anything that could turn this situation around, yet within seconds _she_ was the one backed into a corner.  

As he lunged for her again, instinct took over.

Her hands reached up, the Force sweeping up through her arms –

She caught the shaft in both hands, and pressed back with all her might. A scream rang from her lips, a ferocious roar from his – they were moving; she was pushing and he was the one giving way–

And suddenly, she had him pinned, his back against the wall, the shaft pressing across his chest.

A feral grin broke across his lips. “It feels good doesn’t it? The power. Being in control. You wonder at it, don’t you? Wonder what it would feel like to have it all at your fingertips. But I can show you. I can show you what you’re capable of.”

Realization snapped through her eyes. She let go, slowly backtracking away from him. “No! I don’t care about _power_ -“

“Don’t lie to yourself!" He followed her, his weapon clasped in hand. “You long to feel it thrum through your veins! Have longed for it all your life!”

She shook her head. “You don’t know _anything_ about me or my life!”

“Don’t fling your words at me,” he roared, and rose the shaft for another blow. “Use the _Force_!”

And she did, but not in the way he’d intended.

Frantically, her essence reached out to his. A renewed wave of his anger spilled into her, her heart racing ferociously with the fury - but she clenched her teeth, arms extending as her hands tensed in front of her.

With everything she had, with every part of her strength, she sent a returning wave. Not of fury or hate, but of calm, of _peace_. Panting, sweat dripping down her brow, all she thought of was the sands of home, of waking up to a golden sunrise, of a night of eternal stars, of everything that had ever brought her the strength she’d needed to _keep going_ –

His fury wavered, buckling beneath the strength of her thoughts–

And, finally…

 _Flying_.

She thought of _flying_.

Of infinite deserts swooping by beneath her as she soared through the sky.

He froze.

Her breathing stopped.

The shaft tumbled from his grasp, clattering upon the floor.

The tension, the fury, the _hatred_ clouding the very air around them – it all fell away. And suddenly he was collpasing to his knees, and she was reaching forward, catching him in her arms as they sank to the floor.

Hearts pounded, chests heaved, minds reeled for clarity. Fierce tremors shook through him and into her. His raven head came to rest against her collarbone. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head, softly resting her cheek upon his hair.

She didn’t know for how long they remained like that. It seemed like time had come to a standstill. The storm of their emotions, of their clashing spirits, slowly faded away and Rey found she didn’t care to think of anything aside from his very real and very warm body leaning into hers, of her fingers gently brushing through his hair.

Morning sunlight was filtering through the single, grimy window when he finally stirred. She withdrew, allowing them both to straighten a little.

Their eyes met.

There was something tender in those magnetizing eyes as he simply gazed at her for a long moment. It made her aware of the lilt of her heartbeat, of his warmth that yet lingered against her, of her desire to never have the closeness end.

But his eyes flickered away from hers, down to her cheek. With hesitant fingers, he reached for her face. She watched the minute changes in his expression as he stroked his thumb across her cheekbone; the tenderness wavering into misery. There was the slightest sting against her skin, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a streak of blood spilling across the pad of his thumb as he withdrew.

“My hands will forever be stained by blood…” he murmured, voice husky and strained. “I am a monster. ”

Rey laid her hand across the back of his. Gently, she guided his palm to rest across the side of her face.

"You're not a monster to me," she whispered intently, hoping he could feel the truth she laced within her words. "I was wrong, to ever have said you were. I didn't see your pain. Only my own."

But he only shook his head. “Why do you keep trying? Ever since Starkiller, you’ve been trying… It is too late for me. I’ve already sacrificed any hope there ever was of changing my fate.”

Anguish washed across his features, melancholy tugging at his lips.

“Don’t you see, little bird?” he whispered. “There is nothing left to save.”

Her heart clenched, on the verge of breaking. She shook her head, tightened her hold on his bloodied hand, and _promised_ , “There is _everything_ left to save.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is golden :)


	8. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for your support of my story… It means so, so much to me! This chapter is slightly lighter than usual. It’s so much fun to explore their growing relationship. I hope you will enjoy it too!

* * *

# 8

## Fireworks

_You're the pulse in my veins_

_You're the war that I wage_

_Can you change me?_

_Can you change me?_

_You're the love that I hate_

Monster, Starset

* * *

“You should go back to sleep,” Rey said, her eyes flickering up from the bandage she was tying around his hand, only to see that he was still staring off into nothingness. They were in the kitchen, standing by the cupboards. With a soft sigh, she reached for his other hand, and cleaned the blood from his knuckles. He hadn’t said a word since they’d returned from the warehouse - he’d barely even looked at her, let alone argued when she’d begun tending to his bloodied, raw hands.

“And take some painkillers.”

When even this brooked no response, Rey fought down the concern twisting through her. She didn’t know what had driven him to such a blinding rage that morning, and she wasn’t about to outright ask, but in its wake his strength had completely deserted him.

He was _numb_.

For the first time since she'd become aware of their bond, there was no emotions rising from him. Not the constant anger or fury that had always been blazing at his edges. Nor contempt or regret, or even sorrow.

Just… Nothing.

It was unsettling her more than she cared to admit.

Making sure the last bandage was securely tied, she let go of his hand. She took two painkillers from the bottle he’d shown her the day before, filled a glass with water and placed it on the counter. Then she grabbed a ration pack from the cupboard, and curled his fingers around it.

“Ben,” she said firmly.

He blinked, focusing his impassive eyes on her.

“You need _rest_. Eat, take the medicine and go to bed.”

She half expected him to argue, to make a cutting remark or tell her off. In truth she almost longed for such a reaction, if it would serve to relight the fire in his eyes. But he simply stared at her for a very long moment, before he finally took the water and the pills and headed towards the bedroom.

Her concerned gaze trailed after him, until through the bedroom doorway she could see him sitting down on the edge of the bed. He placed the rations aside, but he did take the pills before he laid down.

Alone in the kitchen, Rey tried to quiet her racing heart. All she really wanted to do was march right over there and hug him. She wanted to ask him what had really happened, what had made him so frightened and upset... She wanted to feel his heart beating against hers as she held him, in the hope of bringing him a measure of strength.

Such foolish thoughts.

None of that mattered.

With a harsh sigh, Rey shook out another pill from the bottle. He’d told her to take two every eight hours, but there was work to be done and she couldn’t afford to fall asleep as she did the day before.

She took a ration pack for herself, and headed back towards the warehouse with a heavy heart.

She could only hope he would get some uninterrupted rest.

He desperately needed it.

* * *

The day slipped by as Rey kept busy in the warehouse. She tried to save what was left of their unfinished custom transpacitor, but having been caught in the crossfire of Ben's rage, it was all but ruined. There was very little she could salvage, and after hours of futile attempts, she finally gave up and turned to other things.

In a dusty corner, covered beneath an old sail, she found a dysfunctional exploration droid. It's circuitry had been damaged and she found no suitable replacements - but it could still come in handy, especially for trading. A droid like that would have earned her at least half a year's worth of portions back on Jakku. It reminded her of BB-8, the little astromech droid that had probably been the core reason she and Finn had crossed paths.

If she hadn't met BB-8, she probably wouldn't have spared Finn a second glance.

So many people came and went through Niima Outpost - she rarely took note of them anymore, always so focused on working, surviving, wondering where her next meal would come from.

The exploration droid wasn't the only treasure within the warehouse. She discovered a working hovercraft, and spent most of the afternoon inspecting it and giving it a tune-up. She figured they might need it soon enough if they were going to find a new transpacitor on this desolate planet. Once she'd stowed the droid in the back of the hovercraft, she collected a few more things suitable to trade when the time came.

But despite her constantly moving hands, there was plenty of time to think.

To _worry_.

Was she even doing the right thing by trying to redeem him? She supposed that any sane person would tell her to take the hovercraft and flee to the settlement he’d mentioned. She could get away, find a way to get to the Resistance. 

To Finn.  

And yet, the heart-breaking moment of that morning lay like an anvil on her chest. The sheer vulnerability in his anguished eyes; the solemn confession that he believed himself to be a monster, unworthy of anything other than the road of darkness and despair he felt compelled to walk. That very admission proved there truly was still some goodness left in him. A last ray of light that still persisted to shine through the darkness.

And she _believed_ in that light.

She believed in the man beneath the mask of the monster. The one still capable of kindness.

It was late afternoon when she headed back towards the house. There were storm clouds brewing on the horizon again, and the wind carried the scent of rain. It brought a brief smile to her face as she headed inside. As she entered the kitchen, shutting the door behind her, the bathroom door creaked open and he stepped out into the hallway.

She froze.

In an instant, her eyes swept over him. He was shirtless; fresh bandages covered his chest and a towel was slung across his shoulder. His raven-black hair was sleek and wet, water drops clinging to the dark strands and to the pale skin of his arms. Scrubbing the towel across his head, he left his hair wild and messy and damp.

Warmth rushed through her belly as her heart gave a dizzying lurch.

At that very moment, he glanced up.

Their eyes met, sending a shooting star of heat spiralling through her entire being.

Her cheeks flamed bright red, she was certain of it – she could feel the heat rising across her skin. And somehow, despite her stupor, she knew that he wasn’t just staring back at her – he was _watching._ Like a hawk watching its prey, he was _watching_ as she struggled to tear her gaze away from the sight of him.

Lowering the towel, a fringe of his wild hair fell across his left eye. And ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth curved into a wolfish smirk.

_Oh, dear stars._

Her pulse soared as he prowled closer. She couldn’t move, not even when he came to stand right in front of her and slowly began to lean in. A hint of his scent – something clean, fresh and somehow metallic – spun her heartbeat into a frenzy. His eyes glinted mischievously, as he leaned closer, and closer–

And reached past her, to grab a glass off the shelf.

He withdrew, allowing her only the briefest glance at the teasing tilt of his mouth.

A wave of dread and embarrassment swept through her.

“You-“

“You really are unnerved so very easily,” he taunted, turning away from her to fill his glass with water.

“I - I am not _unnerved_ -“

“The colour of your cheeks says otherwise.”

She blanched, restraining the urge to press her fingers against her burning cheeks. “You- you should still be resting!”

“I required a shower,” he said simply, casually resting his hip against the cupboard and causing her gaze to fleetingly drink in the contours of toned stomach muscles. “Perhaps you do as well. To… cool off.”

Rey wasn’t sure if she should be offended, embarrassed or angry. She’d spent the entire day worrying over him, and now, here he was, swaggering around and _mocking_ her! A mixture of all three emotions contorted across her face in a way that seemed to cause him a vexing amount of amusement.

“This is not funny,” she bit out.

“I disagree.”

Letting out a low growl of frustration she marched straight towards the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, leaving him to smirk into his glass of water.

* * *

Despite her anger, she couldn’t deny that she did indeed require some cleaning up. Not the least because of the oil and dust staining her hands from her work in the warehouse. After a moment or two, she figured out how the shower worked - and discovering there was both hot and cold water was quite a pleasant surprise.

Soon she was relishing the water streaming down her body. There were bathing supplies stationed neatly on a corner rack. Flicking open the tallest bottle, she recognized it as the same scent she’d caught when he’d leaned in so close. Another flare of warmth cascaded through her at the memory and she almost flung the bottle aside out of frustration.

 _Insufferable man_ , she thought, spitefully hoping he’d heard the words in that arrogant head of his. In her flustered haze she hadn’t even thought to ask if he’d gotten any sleep or if he felt any better. But then again, she supposed his finding enjoyment in her embarrassment was a good sign.

Against her will, a tiny smile bloomed across her lips. Even his teasing arrogance was better than the complete lack of feeling he’d displayed that morning.

She took her time in the shower, scrubbing from head to toe, thoroughly appreciating every moment. The water was soothing and relaxing, chasing away her troubles for the time being. When she finally stepped out, her body was glowing from the heat, steam rising in swirls from her skin.

Once she was dry, she eyed her clothes. The wrap was filthy beyond saving, but her tunic and pants were still reasonably clean. She got dressed, and lastly shrugged on the coat Ben had fetched for her. Letting her hair remain loose to dry, she stepped out of the bathroom.

He was standing at the small stove, his back towards her. At least he was wearing a shirt now, she noted with the slightest pursing of her lips. But the reminder of her earlier humbling moment was quickly swept away for the delicious aroma rising from whatever he was cooking made her stomach rumble in appreciation.

Somewhat tentatively, she walked over to his side and peeked into the pot. It was filled with boiling water, but beneath the bubbles she spotted something yellowish.

“What are you making?” she asked, curiously eyeing his work.

“Pasta.”

She blinked up at him. “Pasta?”

On the counter there was an empty container she’d seen in the cupboard before. She hadn’t known what it was, let alone how to prepare it - but evidently he did.

He glanced down at her, humming beneath his breath. “I gather you’ve never had it before.”

“I don’t think so.”

He returned his attention back to the pot, and added a sprinkling of salt.

“I didn’t realize you could cook,” she said.

“I know the basics of food preparation. It’s a valuable skill,” he answered simply, and picked up the pot to drain the water. Once he was done Rey watched with large eyes as he scooped the stringy yellow stuff into two bowls. While he was busy with another small pot that had been simmering on stove, she grabbed one of the strings between her fingertips and lifted it up, perplexed and amazed at its spindly form.

She was jiggling it ever so slightly when he lightly rapped his fingers on her hand. Admonished, she let go of the string and her eyes flicked up in time to see a quirk at the corner of his mouth as he firmly said, “Surely I don’t have to tell you not to play with your food?”

“But I’ve never seen anything like it!” She scrunched her nose when he elbowed her aside to add whatever he’d had simmering in the other pot.

“You’re like a child,” he murmured. “Amazed at every little thing.”

She blinked, wondering if that was supposed to be an insult.

Before she could decide, he pressed one of the bowls into her hands, and her eyes grew wide with wonder at the finished product of the meal he’d prepared - at the crest of the golden heap of pasta was a large dollop of red sauce.

She'd never _ever_ seen anything so delicious.

“Eat. You’ll need your strength,” he instructed, moving past her to sit down at the table with his own bowl of pasta.

Blinking out of her trance, Rey sat down and peered curiously at him.

“My strength? For… what exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

She sighed, and tried to mimic the way he was twirling the strings onto his fork. “And here I was afraid you were going to start opening up to me and everything.”

He slanted her with a dark look, though she could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Your wit is not as sharp as you’d like to think," he said.

“And you’re not as scary as you’d like to think,” she shot back, finally managing to get several of the strings attached to her fork, even though it didn’t look nearly as neat as his. She took the bite, and immediately her eyes lit up.

“But you really _can_ cook," she mumbled around her mouthful. "This is amazing!"

“You are too easily pleased,” he said gruffly - but after a moment, thoughtfully added, “I can only imagine the spectacle you’d make at Carnival Week. Probably gawk at every little thing.”

She finished chewing this time before speaking, deciding to ignore the fact that he’d referred to her as a _spectacle_. “Carnival Week?”

“A week-long festival on Coruscant,” he explained between leisurely bites. “It is one of the biggest events in the Galaxy, with all manner of creatures and people visiting the planet for the festivities. A sea of endless open-air markets, races between the very best pilots, parades that last throughout the night, more food than anyone can eat, fireworks that paint the sky in every colour imaginable… It is quite magnificent.”

A look of wonder had settled upon Rey’s features. Everything he described sounded like something out of a dream. She could scarcely imagine it. The closest thing she’d ever come to a festival was that one time when Unkar Plutt had decided to have a junk sale that lasted over three days. And the most exciting thing that had happened there had been a brawl that broke out between two rival scavenger gangs.

Perhaps he was not so far off about the spectacle thing after all.

“I probably _would_ do more staring than everyone else combined,” she conceded wistfully. “What are fireworks though?”

From the slight widening of his eyes, she could only assume that he was shocked that she did not know. But from the lack of an answer and the prolonged silence that followed, she supposed that she shouldn’t have presumed they were having an actual conversation for once. She tried not to let her disappointment show, and focused on the delicious food.

When they’d finished eating, he stood up and took both their empty bowls over to the sink before he came back and scooted his chair closer to hers. Gaze widening, Rey wondered what he was up to when he sat down and turned his body to face hers.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She frowned, leaning slightly away. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m telling you to.”

For several moments, she returned his unwavering gaze with a hard look of irritation.

Then she sighed. “Ugh, _fine_.”

Rey closed her eyes.

She heard him shift closer, and his fingers brushed the top of her hand.

And then–

 _This… is fireworks_ , he whispered into her mind. 

The next moment, she was looking at a scene she could at first not comprehend, for it was filled with thousands and thousands of people, and buildings taller than mountains. Everywhere she looked there were vivid colours and crowds of dancers, strings of lights and flags swaying in the wind. Magnifent ships whizzed by overhead, as a parade of musicians passed through the crowds. And as she watched, absolutely enraptured, a bright trail of light shot up into the starry sky.

It _exploded_ in a crackling, resounding boom that painted a whirl of gold and crimson against the stars. Following on its tail, more lights bolted into the night to burst across the sky, each more magnificent that the last. Cascades of radiant colours – some she had never even seen before – adorned the heavens, casting their lingering hues over everyone present. Silver and sky-blue and sunset-orange and forest-green – each sending her heart racing with delight and awe.

“Oh,” she breathed, fingertips hovering over her parted lips.

It was too beautiful for words.

When the scene receded from her mind, she turned her mesmerized eyes to his.

He was watching her with an expression she could not define – but hers were open and amazed.

“You sent me a memory…”

He gave a single, minute nod.

“That was…” slowly, her lips curved into a radiant smile. “That was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen! They were like _stars_ – flowering, _exploding_ stars!”

Before she could stop herself, she’d grabbed his hand between both of hers. “Thank you for showing me. I will treasure that memory forever.”

The way he looked at her in that moment did something strange to her heart. His permanent scowl had softened into something simultaneously lighter but also sadder – like it pained him to have shared this with her. Only she knew that couldn’t be true, for there had been no reason at all to have given her such a gift in the first place. Even now her mind was still reeling with colours – with the very fact that he’d thought to show her something so beautiful, so incredible, when he knew she might never have a chance to see it for herself…

How could she ever express the feelings whirling through her chest?

Her smile was fading when he moved to rise, her fingers drifting back down to her lap.

Pausing to stare out the window, he clasped his hands behind his back.

He did not speak, and Rey let out a soft sigh. Sensing it was perhaps better to stray from the topic of memories, she quietly informed him that she’d tried to finish the transpacitor that morning. “Unfortunately… it wasn’t in any shape to be salvaged.”

“I see,” he said.

“But I did try.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Her frown deepened, taking his impassive tone for sarcasm. “I _did_.”

Turning to face her, he met her gaze with a frown of his own. “I believe you.”

She blinked, surprised. “Oh… “

After a beat of awkward silence, she continued, “I also found a hovercraft. Fixed it up a little. I figured we’d be needing it. And I gathered some things we could possibly trade for the transpacitor.”

Annoyance suddenly edged onto his features. “Why would we need to trade anything?”

“How else are we to get a new one? You don’t have any credit chits with you, do you?”

He snorted. “I am neither trading nor paying for a transpacitor on an all but deserted planet.”

Rey cocked her head. “So then, what? We’re going to _steal_ it?”

Another short, derisive laugh. “You persuaded the Stormtrooper who guarded you to let you escape from your cell, but you can’t figure out that we will be doing the same thing in getting the traders to hand over the needed supplies?”

“But that’s not the same thing at all!" she exclaimed. "You can’t just… use the Force to _rob_ someone!”

“Why not?” he asked with a perfectly serious expression upon his face.

She faltered for words. “Because it’s wrong!”

“And have you lived your whole life on the path of righteousness, scavenger?” he snapped, fists tightening at his sides. “Not everything in this galaxy is good and fair, and more than likely the trader _scavenged_ whatever parts he might have.”

The return of his name for her made her flinch, as did the fact that she knew first hand that not everything was good and fair.

She knew that all too well.

“Even if that is true…” she said quietly. “It is still a life. Perhaps not a noble one. Or a glorious one. But it is a life.”

She wasn’t sure whether she was still talking about the trader – not when the subject hit so close to home.

After a moment, he let out a disdainful huff. “No matter. I have not yet decided whether we will be going or not.”

She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand. What other option do we have? …Why are you so opposed to this?”

Turning his face away, he became motionless, aside from his fingers flexing at his sides. He seemed to be wrestling with something, uncertain whether to tell her or not. She watched as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

She remained quiet, sensing that any interruption from her might just make him more agitated.

Finally, he spoke.

“My previous visit to this planet had been due to an… _incident_ with the local people. The men I’d stationed here had defied my direct orders to leave the locals be. They’d needlessly attacked this very settlement you would have us visit. Many were killed, a handful of my men as well. I came and inspected the situation myself, and pulled the division out.”

Tightly clasping his hands behind his back once more, he returned to gazing out the window. “If we head to the village, there is a chance I might be recognized, mask or no. And in my current state I would rather not deal with quelling a panicked crowd.”

Rey stared, the realization dawning on her.

“That’s why this place was just abandoned,” she murmured.

He gave a curt nod. “Aside from the freak blizzards that could rise up on barely a moment’s notice, yes. The men were relocated to an entirely remote area on the other side of the planet, which gave far less trouble in the long run.”

Even though she supposed it was wiser to say nothing at all, she could not help but voice her thoughts. “That was a good thing you did.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “It was a _strategic_ decision-”

“You could have left your men here,” she said. “You could have ignored what happened.”

“I would _never_ ignore my orders being defied,” he said, pinning her with intense eyes. “I made an example of those who did, and chose the best course of action from there. I do not relish in mindless slaughter, but neither were my decisions made out of a bleeding heart.”

But no matter how he tried to justify his decision as having been practical and strategic, it did not diminish the sliver of hope she’d found in his actions.

* * *

A little while later, rain softly hushing against the windows, Rey was shrugging her coat back on while he washed his hands. He’d checked on her injury, as it had started to ache once more, the single painkiller she’d taken that morning having worn off.

“You never did explain why you are apprehensive of needles,” he muttered quietly, gaze settled on the medicines he was now packing away.

Rey blinked, stunned that he would ask anything remotely personal of her – that he would even care to hear about her reasons over such a matter. She couldn’t find her voice for several moments, and he finally looked up to meet her startled expression.

“You do not wish to tell me,” he said. “Understandable.”

Turning his eyes away from her, he firmly shut the medpac.

“That’s not it,” she said quickly, “I just hadn’t expected you to ask. Or care about my reasons.”

He let out a little huff of breath. “That is… understandable as well.”

She quirked a tiny smile. “Well… _that_ , and I guess I’m not used to _anyone_ asking me things about my life. After all, the only friends I have I met only recently. One’s a droid, and well, Finn and I never really got a chance to get to know each other very well…”

Something hard and cold ghosted across his expression. “Ah, your faithful Stormtrooper.”

She frowned. That was the second time he’d referred to Finn as _her_ Stormtrooper. “He isn’t _my_ -“

“He came to rescue you did he not?” he retorted, a harsh, almost-mocking tone creeping into his voice. “Fought so bravely to defend you.”

The stony glint in his eyes left her with a growing unease.

Thinking of Finn _hurt_ , because she still had no idea whether he’d even survived Starkiller, and it was all because of the man standing in front of her. The man she was desperately trying to understand, even when she did not know if she’d forgiven him for the things he’d done.

The glimpse she’d had of Finn’s broken body was a sight that yet haunted her.

And this… _pain_ , this horrible concern over a friend – it was exactly these feelings that had made her vow to never try to make friends again.

Which was the very answer to the question he’d asked.

“I do not like needles, because my first experience with them was an endless night of excruciating pain as I watched my only friend in the world die before my eyes,” she said, her voice impassive and cold. “I watched her while my side was being stitched together with a needle the size of my index finger - and no drugs or painkillers for me; such things aren't used for the likes of us insignificant little scavengers. I watched as the blood gushed from her wounds, spilling all over the sand - and I watched as the life faded from her eyes. Even now I carry the scar of that night.”

She yanked her tunic upwards to expose a jagged scar that rippled from her lower ribs to the swell of her hipbone.

His dark eyes flickered over the scar before returning his gaze to hers.

“How did it happen?” he asked quietly.

Tugging her shirt back down, Rey grimaced, the memories of that night quickly rushing back and making her feel sick.

“We’d gone on a scavenging mission with a group of thugs we should never have trusted,” she answered bitterly. “When the loot turned out be far more valuable than any of us had realized, a fight broke out. Coreo and I were on the edge of a broken ship. In the chaos of the battle, we both toppled over the edge… It wasn’t a very long way down… but her wounds had been far worse than mine… The fall stole any chance she may have had. By the time I could get help, she was already fading.”

Rey was surprised to find her eyes blurry with tears. Angrily, she swiped them away. It had been many years since she’d thought of the Abednedo she’d befriended on Jakku.

“We’d started out as two scavengers, just trying to survive. But over time we kept sticking together, and she became the first real friend I ever…”

For several long moments, she stood shuddering, eyes closed as a single tear escaped from her wet lashes.  Her arms folded around herself, as she tried to reign the hurt back in. So many years, and yet she still carried the horror of that night inside of her.

Maybe she shouldn’t have told him. Any moment now he was probably going to tell her that she was weak and foolish.

And yet, he did not.

 “I… should not have asked,” he murmured instead, so quietly she’d barely heard him.

Her eyes flicked up.

He wasn’t looking at her, but was that a tiny flickering of sympathy coming from him? Sympathy and… understanding?

Swallowing hard, she slowly shook her head. “That’s okay. I’ve never told anyone about that night. After Coreo died, I never tried to make friends or allies again. I kept strictly to myself. In a way, she was the first and last friend I’d had for most of my life. That was, until Finn…”

The change that came over him was slow, but profound.

His entire being seemed to go ridged, as the very air around him began to quiver with a mess of complex emotions.

The only one she could make out before it all washed away into rage, was a pang of regret.

* * *

He tried to fight down the rising fury that was burning through him.

But his anger had always gotten the better of him.

“You saw me murder my own father… One of your so-called only friends may have died by my hand…” he said, in a tone that was low and husky and deep. “And yet you would tell me that I am worth saving.”

He pinned her beneath a glare that would send lesser beings running for the hills.

“If your Stormtrooper could see you now, I wonder what he would think of you.”

She took a step back, anguish flashing over her face. Anguish, and confusion at the sudden change in him. “That is not fair.”

The naked hurt in her eyes was enough to let his rage become blinding.

How could she not see? If that cursed Stormtrooper was _dead_ , then-

Tormented with feelings he did not understand nor want, he roughly caught her wrist. “It is this connection between us that clouds your judgement, as it is clouding mine! Have you not realized it yet? That the only reason you see any goodness in me, is because of the goodness in _you!_ You see it reflected in me through this damned bond!”

Suddenly, an earth-shaking _boom_ resounded through the house. In a single, flickering moment, every light went out, plunging them into darkness.

Rey gave a loud screech, the sound lost to the roaring thunder overhead, and all but jumped into his arms. Within a heartbeat the rain came down in a flood, pouring in icy sleets that filled the entire house with the noise of the downpour. Her fingers clutched onto his shirt over his chest as her other hand curled around his upper arm.

Barely a second later, another deafening roll of thunder broke through the air, quaking through the very walls and setting objects around them rattling. A startled scream was drawn from her lips and a wave of her fear pierced into him. She pressed her forehead into his chest, her grip tightening on his arm.

With fingers curling into fists, he concentrated on the slight pain rippling through his wounded knuckles, trying to distract himself from the desire of wrapping her in an embrace. He lowered his head, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “It is only thunder.”

Beneath the din of the rain, his voice sounded like a whisper. His heart was _pounding_ against his ribs, though he wasn’t sure why. An aftereffect of his flare of anger, or a side-effect of her sharp, prickling terror perhaps… Or maybe because she was so close he could feel her entire body shaking.

As she looked up at him, a flash of lightning lit the room in blinding silver, revealing her eyes to be large and fearful.

But she was clinging to _him_.

Even after he had once again pointed out her complete foolishness in thinking he was anything other than a monster.

Even though the most dangerous thing in the vicinity was not the thunder that frightened her so, but the very man in whose arms she stood.

“I thought you liked rainstorms,” he found himself murmuring. The raging storm had a strange hushing effect, making it seem like they were the only two in all the world. It allowed him to notice details he hadn’t only moments ago. Like the sound of her feathered breath, or the enticing scent of her hair, or the way the warmth of her hand was seeping into his arm.

“Rainstorms… yes… thunder? Definitely _not_.”

She was loosening her hold on him, when the loudest clap of thunder yet seemed to split the very sky apart. He felt her yelp of fright more than heard it, as she completely huddled against him this time, and he could no longer restrain himself from curving his arms around her.

“Alright… alright…” he whispered against her hair, unknowing if she could hear him or not. “Calm down.”

His thoughts rushed back to the story she’d just told him. It made him sick just thinking about it, visualising her and her friend being betrayed by a group that couldn’t stick to their word. Was this why she told him that she would never break her end of a bargain - because she knew what it had cost her when someone broke their promise?

And following on the heels of her revelation, the realization had come like a blow to the ribs: that he may have murdered that thrice-damned traitor she called a _friend_.

Had he truly stooped so low? That he was regretting dealing with a traitor to the Order, when it had been nothing less than the man deserved? Had he not told her earlier that he never ignored when his orders were defied – that he would punish any who dared?

The roar of the storm slowly died down to a low _whooshing_ against the walls. Only then did he loosen his hold on her, remembering what he’d planned earlier.

“Come,” he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the bedroom. “A distraction is in order.”

He motioned for her to sit down on the bed.

“What sort of distraction?” she asked sceptically and remained standing.   

“I’d told you earlier that you would need your strength. I will be teaching you some basic Force techniques. Your natural abilities show potential, but you have much to learn.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and once again gestured for her to do the same. She did, though her frown did not disappear.

She shifted uncomfortably. “You’ve told me before that you could show me the ways of the Force... But why would you want to teach me anything?”

“Do you not wish to learn?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She seemed taken aback. “I – I don’t know…You’re the only Force user I’ve met. How do I know if I can trust what you teach me?”

To his own surprise, he had to fight the unexpected grin that tugged at his lips. “Are you worried that you would fall to the dark side so easily? What I intend to teach you is merely how to employ a basic mental guard. It draws neither from the light or the dark - it is a relatively simple technique. It does require practice to be effective, however.”

She remained quiet for a little while, her fingers fidgeting in her lap as she clearly wrestled with the decision. He waited patiently, holding the suspicion that her inquisitive nature was not about to refuse being taught something new.

“Alright, you can teach me.” She nodded. “In exchange for a question.”

He should have known. “Do you ever stop negotiating?”

She shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”

He blinked at having his own words of the day before echoed back at him. Giving a snort to hide the tiniest flickering of mirth, he nodded. “Very well, then. Ask your question.”

“I want to know more about our bond,” she said quickly, as though he might have changed his mind already.

He tilted his head, smirking. “That is not a question.”

This drew a sigh of frustration from her. “Fine then. _Why_ do we have this bond?”

For some time, he weighed his answers, though he finally gave her the most earnest one he had.

“I do not know.”

Clearly not having expected that answer, she exclaimed in bewilderment, “How can you _not_ know?”

“Natural occurring connections between Force users are not unheard of,” he answered evenly. “Especially amongst close family members, such as between parents and their children, or between twins. Typically, any connections between Masters and their Apprentices must be _forged_ \- and then it is not devised as a constant thing. It is similar to using a communicator when needed. And any type of bond takes time to grow and be effective.”

He paused, fingers once again slowly tensing into fists, the sharp stabs of pain in his knuckles serving as a distraction from the vulnerability he faced. “Ours… however… How it came to be, or _why_ , as you asked… That remains a mystery to me. I’ve never heard of such deep bonds before, much less taking place over such a short period of time.”

And then, he added, “It is not what I would deem an advantage.”

He noticed her fidgeting had stopped as she quietly looked into his eyes. “I think it can be.”

A severe scowl cut across his features. “And how is that? Do you not at this very moment feel the ache of my ribs as your own? Just as I feel the sting of your shoulder. What do you think would happen when either one of us are mortally wounded?”

Taking a deep breath, he clenched his jaw, and spoke insistently. “This is why it is imperative to teach you how to use an effective mental guard.”

For several moments, she did not say anything, did not seem to react at all aside from the slightest softening of her gaze. His breathing fell heavily in the space between them.

“It’s not true you know,” she said quietly.

A frown quickly twisted across his features. “ _What_ is not true?”

“You said I see my own goodness reflected back in you. It’s not true. You speak as though this bond makes me blind, as though it makes me see things that aren’t there. But I didn’t forget the things you’ve done… I simply believe you’re worthy of being saved in spite of them.”

His chest tightened with a hindrance of emotions. How can she speak so calmly, so assuredly, as though what she said was indisputable? “That foolish belief will only lead you to your _end_.”

A sad sort of smile spread across her lips. “Then that is the end I choose.”

He stared at her, long and stunned, his heart pounding loudly in his chest as though _she_ had just been the one to threaten _him_ , and not the other way around.

“Teach me,” she said then.

And so her first lesson began.

* * *

It was a few hours later, nearing midnight. Rey was settled on the bed in a cross-legged position, next to him where he was resting his head back against the headboard. Her fingertips were rubbing slow, firm circles against her temples in an effort to ease the exertion of the mental exercise. Within an hour or two, she’d grasped the basic idea of the barrier, but actually putting it into place and then holding it there was challenging. Using the Force to accomplish a constant effect that had no direct anchor within the world around them was proving to be a demanding test.  

And he was _not_ a gentle teacher.

Each time she managed to raise the barrier around her mind – or at least, around certain aspects of her mind – he would relentlessly push and prod against it until he tore it down. At least the compelling exercise had indeed managed to distract her from the occasional burst of thunder that roared through the night.

“ _Again_ ,” he ordered.

With a deep breath she did as he asked, her eyes squeezed shut. Her strength was slowly ebbing away into exhaustion and frustration.

As it crackled into place, she instantly felt his assault as he searched for weak spots. To her dismay, her barrier had been as fragile as glass and within moments he broke it down again, sending a sharp pain shattering through her head.

She drew a hissing breath between bared teeth, grasping her head with both hands.

“Ow,” she murmured, white hazy spots swimming before her eyes.

“Perhaps that is enough practice for one day.”

His voice was so close. When had he moved closer? Rey blinked, still holding her head as she tried to regain her vision.

“You think?” she groaned.

Breathing deep, she became aware of a solid warmth leaning into her – or was she the one leaning into it?

“Sleep," he said from somewhere above her head. "You’re exhausted."

Her reply was a muffled moan of agreement, as she snuggled deeper into the warmth, and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Kylo Ren was gazing down at the scavenger. She was still sitting somewhat upright, leaning into him with her head resting on his shoulder, fast asleep.

That last attempt on his part had probably been a little unnecessary. Her resulting headache had cut sharply through his own head. But he could not deny the strange sensation of _satisfaction_ thrumming through him at that very moment.

Not for the first time, her power left him completely overwhelmed – and to be able to be the one to _teach_ her… Even in this short few hours, she had shown tremendous promise. She would be a phenomenal student.

He allowed himself a glimpse of what it could be like to truly become her teacher. He could show her everything it had taken him decades to learn; he could share with her the secrets of the Force, he could show her how her power could shape the world. She could be a formidable pupil, someone against who he could sharpen his own skills, someone who could challenge him as much as he challenged her.

And yet…

That morning…

In the wake of her denial of any wish for her power, she had filled his mind with such pure feelings of peace that it had even drawn upon a handful of his own peaceful memories, memories he’d thought he’d buried with the name Ben Solo. The most distinct of all, perhaps, being the times he’d spent in the Millennium Falcon with… his father.

And though this feat once again showed that her abilities were above anything he had ever encountered, it was not that in itself which had amazed him most.

What had completely staggered him, was that it had worked.

That her _peace_ had been strong enough to obliterate his _rage_.

That her peace had somehow overcome his terror.

To think that the reminiscent flashbacks and emotions she had sent him – of nights she’d slept beneath the sky, of watching sunrises across golden dunes, of the beauty she had somehow found in her solitary existence – had swept away the terrifying aftereffects of his Master’s visit like mist before the sun.

He hadn’t known such a thing was possible.

A soft sigh huffed through his nose. Was his desire to be her teacher then simply an extension of jealously? That by enacting some control over her powers, he would not feel threatened by her?

That by making her a Knight, her powers would at least in some sense belong to him?

He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

How deeply had he been lying to himself?

The dark side of the Force compelled him to seize her power for his own, certainly…

And yet, the fascination with her power was not a suitable explanation for enjoying how she felt curled up against him. How it brought him both a sense of vulnerability and heart-wrenching wonder to be trusted so implicitly. As the thunder had struck, she did not jump away from the man who had threatened her – she had come _towards_ him. At this very moment she was sleeping next to him, without a care in the world, without a thought that he would hurt her. Even after he’d given her every single reason to be mad with terror in his mere presence.

No one had ever trusted him in this way.

And maybe… just maybe… he liked how it felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and please consider leaving some feedback :)


	9. Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Song:** [Love is a mystery by Ludovico Einaudi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=riq7y868KVY)

* * *

# 9

## Dreaming

_Wind, let me lose my mind,_

_She must come back sooner or later._

_Let me suffer alone._

_Let me forget first._

Nuvole Bianche, Ludovico Einaudi

* * *

The storm raged throughout the entire next day. Sleets of ice poured down in endless waves, turning the view through the windows into a wall of icy-grey. Going outside was out of the question, which meant they were cooped up within the small house, with no way of avoiding each other. During the first few hours of the morning, Rey was certain the tension would quickly become unbearable – but then he made the suggestion of continuing with the Force exercises.

And before she knew it, hours slipped by in a not entirely unpleasant blur.

The strength of her barrier kept improving, though she was still struggling in holding it up for extended periods of time, especially since he was purposely throwing everything he had at her. After they took a break, he suggested that she should try keeping it in place while focusing on other things - which was far easier said than done. He was showing her how to cook rice - a simple thing, yet she burned her fingers at the stove when her barrier buckled beneath his onslought. It was only a mild burn, but yet he took her hand and treated it with the same care he had her shoulder.

Almost as if he'd felt responsible for it.

Nightfall came swift and sudden, along with a renewed thunderstorm and a steep drop in temperature.

Where they sat in the bedroom, sipping warm cups of tea to keep the cold away, their breath shuddered into foggy clouds. Rey had a blanket wrapped around her, and her fingers clutched the cup for dear life, leeching every bit of warmth from it that she possibly could.

Well, _that_ , and wishing the tiny bit of warmth would distract her from thinking of their sleeping arrangements…

For two nights in a row, she'd slept beside him – once because he'd told her to, and the other because she'd passed out from exhaustion. Since waking up that morning, she'd refused to think of it, hoping against hope that she would forget just how comforting it had been to open her eyes and find his arms wrapped around her, her hands curled against his chest, their legs entwined…

For as long as she could remember, she'd always been alone, and until that first night when they came here, she'd never slept beside anyone before. Back on Jakku, there had been nights when her stark loneliness had choked her every breath, slivering and burning beneath her skin like a fever. Nights when sleep had refuse to come, in which her lonely soul had prayed for daybreak, just so that she could return to the sun and her scavenging.

But having someone at her side… someone who was warm and real and who wrapped her in his arms when she snuggled closer…

It was like dreaming.

And it was the _tiniest_ bit addictive.

Of course she knew it couldn't last… _wouldn't_ last…

Just then, he startled her out of her thoughts.

"Get some rest," he said, rising from his chair. "You… did well today."

She blinked, staring bewilderedly after him as he began to stride out of the room.

"Wait!" she exclaimed hastily - _impulsively_.

In the doorway, he came to a halt, turning to look down at her.

With a soft intake of breath, her voice chose that moment to abandon her. And all she could manage was to gaze up into those somber, russet-brown eyes.

When her lips opened and closed multiple times, he snapped impatiently, "What is it?"

She swallowed, wondering what had possessed her. Dropping her gaze away, her fingers tightened around her cold, empty cup…

"Are you… are you coming back soon?"

If she'd been looking up at him in that moment, she would have witnessed shock quickly followed by a mixture of apprehension and disbelief. As it was, it was the slightest flickering of all these emotions that drew her eyes to his once more, to catch a glimpse of his agonized gaze before he turned his face away.

"Sleep," he said, and left.

* * *

Rey woke up to an empty space beside her.

Caught in a breathless moment between waking and sleeping, her chest ached with things she somehow knew she should not be feeling. A desire for warmth; a yearning to be wanted, to feel safe, for once not by her own strength, but in the circle of another's arms.

Fingers curling into fists, she willfully gathered these treacherous desires close to her heart and locked them tight, hoping to hide them even from herself.

But in the fleeting heartbeat before wakefulness, it was impossible to deny the truth.

That every single one of those maddening wishes was for him.

All, for him.

She dragged herself out of bed and took a blazing-hot shower, chasing away both the cold and the last dregs of sleep from her mind. Afterwards, she felt more focused, and realized that the storm had passed, leaving only a scattering of clouds in its wake. A gentle roll of her shoulder indicated that the wound wasn't bothering her nearly as much anymore. The inactivity of the day before had done it some good.

Then, the very moment she started to wonder where he was, he spoke in her mind – making her wonder if he'd been lurking around, just waiting for her to think of him.

 _Once you are done, come find me. We shall continue your training_.

Rey paused in the kitchen, brows furrowing. Continue her training? Why did it sound as though he had more in mind than letting her practice the barrier?

**_Training of what exactly? And where are you?_ **

She had the faint impression of him clicking his tongue at her.

_Certainly you are able to figure that out by yourself._

Rey scoffed and shrugged on her coat, before setting off outside. Once she came to the bottom of the steps, she paused, gazing at the area. When there was no clear sign of him, she sighed and closed her eyes, focusing. It was faint, but she was certain she felt his presence more strongly towards the left. She began walking, passing through the other houses until she came to the fields on the other side.

Here she hesitated, remembering what had happened the last time she went off on her own.

A laugh, low and breathless, stirred through her mind.

 _I am the only monster stalking the fields today, little bird_.

Pursing her lips, a sharp spark of anger mingled with exasperation spun through her. Him calling himself a monster once again – and so casually at that – was enough to make her grit her teeth in annoyance.

_…It should not matter to you what I call myself._

The words were phrased as a statement and yet she caught its puzzled edge.

Now it was her turn to laugh. **_Haven't you noticed, Ben? It's mattered to me from day one._**

A flare of resentment. _You stubbornly continue to use that name._

Letting out a deep breath, she tried to determine his exact location. He was quite a way off, it seemed. Somewhere over that ridge?

 ** _Tell you what_** , she thought as she ventured into the field, **_You call me by my name, and I might call you by yours._**

She made her way through the swaying stalks, wrapping her arms around her chest to conserve her warmth. Despite the cold it felt good to be outside again; the air was fresh and she inhaled deeply, catching the fragrance of dew and grass.

Coming to the ridge, she followed the rocky slope and made her way to the top. She looked up to see him seated against an outcropping, out of the worst of the breeze. One of his legs was stretched out long in front of him, the other was pulled up against his chest, his forearm resting upon his knee. He was wearing his robes and his cloak, the hood throwing a soft shadow across his pale face.

"You are entirely too open to read," he said as she neared.

"The barrier gives me a headache," she deflected with an offhanded shrug, thrusting aside the fleeting reminder of her brief and ridiculous desires when she'd woken up. Hopefully he wasn't referring to reading _those_ thoughts.

"That is not what I meant."

Her brows creased at the sharpness in his tone.

"You have no intention of ever calling me by my chosen name. My _true_ name." A note of accusation prickled through his words, a sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I thought you were not a swindler."

Surprised and a little confused, she blinked, shifting uncomfortably upon the spot. He was right. There had been no truth behind her statement of calling him Kylo Ren – but she hadn't thought he'd take it so seriously either. In hindsight, that was probably a foolish assumption to make.

Lowering herself down upon the ground beside him, she folded her legs to the side and stared out across the expanse of fields and far-off hills. "The day I call you by your chosen name, will be the day I give up on you, Ben Solo."

With bitter ferocity, his lip curled. "I wonder. Would that be the same day you find out your Stormtrooper is dead because of me?"

Her widened eyes, stunned and flashing with hurt, flicked towards his, finding that he was staring back with a sharp intensity that bordered on a challenge, as though daring her to say _yes_.

"Finn is not dead," she said, emphasising each word as her fingers tightened into fists. "I will see him again. I believe that."

She did believe it – she _had_ to.

But he only laughed, hostile and breathless. He leaned his head back against the rock, most of his face obscured by the rim of his hood and his wild, raven hair.

Ignoring the ache throbbing through her chest, she shook her head and sighed. Would they ever get through a single conversation without an argument? Without him lashing out whenever something cut too close to the bone?

For a long while, it seemed he was content to remain in tense silence and Rey let her gaze drift over the green plains below them. It was almost peaceful. With just a little bit of imagination she could fool herself into thinking they were simply two companions, sitting side by side in the sun. She hadn't had a companion or an ally or a friend in such a long time… What would it be like to have someone at her back? Having someone always looking out for her, and she for them?

 _I'm being ridiculous,_ she thought with a pang of dejection.

"How are you feeling?" she asked then. "Did you get any sleep?"

But of course he would not take kindly to her inquiry.

"I do not understand you," he scathingly replied. "We are not _friends_ , scavenger. Have I not told you that your concern is both unneeded and unwanted?"

"Oh, you are unbelievable!" she exclaimed, somehow resisting the urge to simply march off and leave him brooding on his own. "You show concern over me – you even insisted on mending _this_." She lifted her hand to indicate the burn of the day before. "But when I show the same towards you, it's completely ridiculous! No, we might not be friends – but we sure as hell aren't enemies either! And whatever you may believe, I _do_ care about you–"

She blanched, flinching when she realised what she'd just said.

Of course her concern and her actions thus far have implied a certain level of care, but admitting it so openly?

From the starkness of his expression, she must have caught him off guard as well.

Turning her face away she closed her eyes and released a sigh. She may as well continue, seeing as she was already in the thick of it. "Do not tell me I am foolish. I already _know_ all the reasons why I should not care. But it doesn't change the way I feel."

With her heart pounding in her chest, she thought of everything that happened and changed between them in the last few days. "You might not have believed me when I told you that you are still worth saving. You might not understand why I keep trying. You can tell me that this will lead to my end. But I _will_ keep trying."

She did not even understand all of it herself.

But she wasn't one to give up; not ever.

Not when there was still hope.

After a long, quiet moment he murmured, "You will only be disappointed."

It was solemnly spoken – vastly different from his previous retorts. This wasn't a threat, it was simply a statement, one he truly believed.

He slowly looked up towards the sky. "After all, a bird cannot change its feathers."

The ache beneath her ribs flared, causing her fingers to lock into fists, lest she reach out towards him.

 _Stars_.

When had she started to care so deeply? So deeply that his pain was unbearable to witness; that all she longed to do was take it into herself, and fill him with light?

Rey tilted her head. "I thought I was the bird."

A tense heartbeat.

Then… Was that a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth? She couldn't be sure, for he quickly tilted his head away. "Very well, then. A leopard cannot change its spots."

The beginnings of a smile was slowly spreading across her lips. " _Actually_ , there's this type of feline on Jakku that changes its colours-"

The faintest gleam of amusement rose from him. "I don't suppose anyone has ever told you that you are exceedingly annoying?"

"Exceedingly? No." She was really smiling now, a swell of playful energy replacing the ache and making her reach for it with both hands. "Just plain old annoying? Sure, plenty of times. Especially when I was still much younger and could never stop asking questions, or rambling on about things, everyone always used to tell me to stay quiet. I rarely listened though. How else was I supposed to learn?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes they answered, and when they didn't, I figured it out for myself."

He tilted his head to thoughtfully peer down at her, huffing slightly through his nose. "I can sympathise with their pain."

"Hey!" she laughed, giving him a gentle shove to his arm. "Don't pretend that you don't enjoy my questions – you _like_ explaining things to me!"

An amused grunt. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You answered all my questions about the Force yesterday–"

"There was nothing else to occupy myself with."

"–And you showed me how to make tea."

"A useful skill for you to have, seeing as you'll be making it from now on."

"Hmm… Oh!" She snapped her fingers, "You agreed to trade a question for teaching me about the barrier!"

"That was simply to convince you to agree to it. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

"And yet you knew that I was going to ask about our bond."

For a moment, his lips parted, before he shut them quickly once more. The gesture made her give a brief snort of laughter. "Speechless, Mister Solo?"

With slow intent, he veered his heavy gaze to her – and if it was not for the haze of his amusement that she could feel through their connection, her mirth may quickly have disappeared. As it was, he gave a roguish smirk. "Very well. Should we see how much my explanations have aided you? I hope you were listening yesterday, for I won't be answering any more questions unless you succeed with the following test."

Narrowing her eyes in playful contemplation, she asked, "What test?"

With an open palm, he reached forward, and suddenly, one of the pebbles upon the ground leapt into his hand. Closing his fingers around it, he turned to her and gave her a smug look. "Call the pebble towards you. For every one you manage to catch, you can ask me a question."

She hummed beneath her breath, feeling the excitement of the challenge stir through her. "Are you _sure_ you want to make that deal? I have a never-ending amount of things to ask."

"So confident." He rose his hand, holding the pebble between forefinger and thumb. "But we shall see."

The rush of lightheartedness did not fade as Rey let out a deep breath and focused her gaze on the pebble, raising her own hand. She concentrated, willing it to jump towards her palm.

Nothing happened.

Huffing slightly, she squared her shoulders and tried again. He was but an arm's length away – surely this shouldn't be too difficult?

Focusing on the pebble with all her might, she reached out through the Force, imagining it as tendrils of energy swirling out, reaching to grab the pebble and bring it towards her–

But something was holding it back. It was like tugging on a piece of bolted metal.

Her eyes flew up, to see the smirk still playing across his mouth.

"You called the lightsaber without a problem," he drawled. "Surely this should be child's play?"

She considered him, scrunching her nose ever so slightly. "You're holding it back."

"Well, I never said this was going to be easy. Come now, you need to work for your reward."

And she did. It took her several minutes and a sheen of sweat building upon her forehead, but finally, the little rock jumped into her palm.

The moment it touched her skin, she curled her hand into a fist and thrust it into the air with a victorious grin.

Her heart pounded.

Because the corners of his mouth was tipped up, slanting in a sideways smile. A real one, that vanished far too quickly.

It only made her long for more.

She didn't ask her question right away, opting to continue with the exercise. He didn't make it any easier, though. As they continued, he would throw pebbles into the air and have her call them to her while he was also vying for control. More often than not the pebble obeyed him rather than her, his power far more compelling. That was, until his arrogant smirk annoyed her so badly that the very moment he threw the pebble into the air, it jumped into her palm.

That earned her a calculated look and the tiniest nods of approval.

Finally, when a handful of pebbles lay before her, he said, "It seems I owe you some answers."

Rey nodded. There were certainly many things she wanted to know, about the Force, about _him_ – but she also didn't want to ruin the levity between them. This had been fun, and there was no need to push the game into something serious.

When she looked up, she smiled. "I'll trade all of my hard-earned pebbles for a single question."

He arched a brow, considering her with his typical intensity.

She gave a small shrug, and eyed him hopefully. "I just want to know if you're feeling any better."

Gradually over the last few days, the phantom pain she'd experienced of his injuries had faded. But she wanted to hear it from him. Only then will she know if he was simply blocking her out or if he really was healing. Surely he wouldn't deny her this one simple answer?

But he remained silent, and slowly her smile slipped away.

And then–

"My ribs no longer constantly hinder my breathing. Today, I found I can move with more ease. The other injuries never bothered me much to begin with. All of them are healing well enough... Even this…" His fingers hovered over the scar upon his face for a moment, before he dropped his hand and met her gaze.

"Satisfied?"

Her lips curved into a slow grin. "For the moment."

She tossed him the pebble, and he caught it in his fist. "I want to try again. And make it more challenging this time."

His only response was the briefest tug of his lips.

* * *

In the clutches of her nightmare, Rey could not stop screaming.

A twisted, nightmarish version of that horrible night Coreo had died haunted her slumber. She was screaming her friend's name over and over, to the sound of the skeletal ship breaking apart. It shuddered and heaved and groaned in ways it never had in reality, causing Rey to stumble and fall again and again as she desperately tried to save Coreo.

She couldn't let her die again. She couldn't lose her only friend.

Suddenly, from far away, a voice filtered through the choking horrors. "Wake up!"

But the ship was breaking, tearing, and she was falling, Coreo was _falling_ –

"Wake _up_!"

Her eyes shot open, wide and scared. For a few tortured moments, she was still caught in her nightmare. Panicked breath hitching, she squirmed, a frantic cry escaping her throat.

Then, his firm, deep voice spoke again, prying away the claws of the nightmare. "Calm down. It's alright."

Slowly, she realized it was only the thunder rumbling overhead, and not the ear-piercing shudders from the ship in her nightmare.

Chest heaving, her entire body quivered as she finally focused on him.

"Breathe," he murmured, never once turning his gaze away, allowing her to hold onto it like a lifeline.

She became aware of his firm hold on her arms. It felt good, comforting – anchoring her in the present moment. And yet she could not fight the tightness in her throat or the reflexive tears that sprang to her eyes.

When they fell, at least they fell silently. Swallowing hard, she squeezed her eyes shut, her body aching from the effort of crushing down the overwhelming emotions flooding forth from those memories.

"I saw her dying all over again," she murmured.

"I know."

The solemn statement caused her eyes to flutter open again, and she peered at him quizzically for a moment before he sighed. "When I touched you… I saw."

Her heart twisted painfully against her ribs, her eyes flickering away from his, unable to bear the vulnerability creeping up her spine. But then he reached toward her face, and stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheekbone, swiping away the tears.

Without opening her eyes, she leaned into the touch. "Will you… stay? I don't want to be alone."

His fingers stiffened against her cheek.

With a snagging breath, he withdrew.

He stood up to leave, and she whispered. "Please?"

Seconds ticked by – each passing like a strained eternity as he remained motionless.

Finally, he yielded. "Then move over."

A swell of warm relief seeped through her. She did as he asked and curled slightly into herself while he took off his boots and slipped out of his shirt, before joining her beneath the blankets.

Turning on her side, she faced him. He settled onto his back, staring resolutely up at the ceiling.

A shaky smile bloomed across her lips. "Thank you."

Gaze flicking down to hers, he scowled. "What for this time?"

"Staying."

He shifted uncomfortably, and returned his gaze to study the ceiling. "There is something I want to know. Something I do not understand."

"Hm? What is it?" she asked softly, puzzled.

"After your friend died… Why did you stay on Jakku? You were all alone, in a desolate place that did everything in its power to beat you down. You must have had opportunities to leave."

Rey silently gazed at the profile of his pale face in the gloom.

"I could have left if I'd wanted to," she admitted. "But I chose to stay."

"But _why_? You must have known your family was not coming back."

The familiar sadness of the yearning for an unknown family tugged at her heart. "They were part of the reason I stayed. But, I think… The idea of them kept me going; the thought of them returning gave me hope. If I'd left, I didn't know if I could ever find hope again. There were so many times I _wanted_ to leave. But then…"

She took a shuddering breath.

"After Coreo died, I set out on my own. I was bitter and angry and filled with grief, unable to bear the thought of associating with anyone ever again. I wonder now, if a part of me had really given up hope then? If a part of me had wanted to die? I traveled for days, weeks, with nothing but wasteland and the sun to keep me company… And then, I came to a fallen AT-AT walker."

A lightness graced her lips. "And you know what I found inside? In this little hollow of sand, there was a green sprout… A spinebarrel flower. It was tiny, and all alone, and I remember thinking, if that flower could bloom in a place as desolate and forsaken as that wasteland… If that flower somehow managed to survive… Then I could survive there too."

Rey curled her hands into fists, pressing them against her chest as a myriad of emotions stirred beneath her heart; reminiscent feelings of old, mingled with newfound desires that plagued her even now. Had she truly shared one of her deepest, most profound memories with him? Would he think her even more foolish now, after hearing it? With her heart pounding fiercely, she turned on her side, facing away from him, and took the small comfort of his warmth at her back.

But then he shifted.

A strong arm settled across her waist, pulling her closer. He leaned into her, nose in her hair, sending a shiver down from the nape of her neck to the tip of her spine.

And words, whispered so softly she barely heard them, "You'll be the death of me, little bird."

* * *

Sunlight stirred through the darkness of his dreams. Sunlight, promises made, and an unmistakable melody.

His eyes fluttered, though did not open. As he lay, melting deeper into the warmth beside him, he thought he was still dreaming.

For the melody had not faded…

His eyes fluttered open, and he went very, very still.

In his arms, he held the scavenger. Morning sunshine bathed them in a soft, golden glow whilst, feather-lightly, she traced a fingertip over the inside of his palm.

And she was humming the very melody from his dreams.

For a heartrending moment, he couldn't breathe; could only drink in the melancholic but soothing tones rising from her lips.

"Where… did you hear that song?"

She stilled in his arms, the melody suspended.

He did not give her time to answer. Within a moment, he caught her wrists, pinning them above her head as he moved to loom over her, pressing her into the mattress beneath him. He firmly ignored her soft squeak of protest and surprise.

"How do you know that song, scavenger?"

She blinked, startled, eyes flickering between his. "What do you mean? I've always known it-"

"And how is it that the song from your lips is the very song that has been haunting my dreams ever since we first came here?" he snapped with rising frenzy.

His words belied the comfort he had found in this dream: the only dream that had ever brought him peaceful rest for as long as he could remember. He wasn't about to admit that, though, not when his heart was pounding so hard he thought he might pass out.

"When we came here, I hummed it to you that night… I –" she shook her head, clearly bewildered, and struggled for words. "I don't understand what's wrong."

Neither did he, not really, aside from the fact that something was nagging at the back of his mind, something that didn't make any sense. He could have sworn the melody had seemed _familiar_ , as though he had heard it _ages_ ago… There had been something about the dream, something about those trees, and the voice…

From that first night, it had always felt more like a _memory_ than a dream.

But that was impossible.

He should have known. Had he truly been so blind - so _purposely_ blind? From the very first time their minds had connected, her essence had reminded him of sunlight.

The dream had always been because of _her_.

And whether she purposely sent it to him, or whether it was only a side-effect of their bond… It did not matter. He couldn't allow this to continue – _all of this_. Her admission that she cared about him, the desire she awoke within him, sleeping next to her, the shards of hope he'd allowed himself to feel - that there could still somehow be an end to this torment, an end that should have come with the death of his father.

Staring down at her, he was hypnotized by the dreamy softness of her features, the flecks of green in her eyes, the dusting of freckles across her cheekbones, the swoop of collarbones peeking from beneath her shirt, the waves of her hair spilled out across the pillow… and when she took a breath, he watched the way it shuddered through her lips, her chest rising, back arching ever so slightly–

A flare of heat, burning and compelling, spread from the pit of his stomach outwards, making his blood rush in his ears.

Stricken, he flinched away, letting go of her as he climbed off the bed.

She was _changing_ him. Everything about her was changing him, and he couldn't continue to stand by and let her unravel everything he had fought for.

"Get ready. We'll be leaving for the village within the hour."

* * *

Neither of them spoke a word, the low hum of the hovercraft the only sound filling the heavy silence between them.

Rey sighed, for the hundredth time.

She didn't understand what had happened that morning. The look in his eyes had bordered on _frantic_. One moment, she'd been drifting in a state of hazy dreaminess, the next, he'd had her pinned to the mattress. And if it weren't for the panic-stricken energy that had clouded his essence, she might not have been able to fight the searing heat that had threatened to make her do very stupid, reckless things.

Another sigh escaped her lips.

What could he have meant by the song haunting his dreams? She'd never meant to cause him any further distress – in fact, she'd intended for the exact opposite… Why then, had his words felt like an _accusation_?

To make matters more confusing, his abrupt decision to leave for the village had taken her completely off guard. She'd known they'd have to go sooner or later – but why did it feel like he was fleeing from something? And here she'd foolishly been thinking that she'd been making progress…

The silence between them now, was a torture all on its own.

She could handle his fury, she could take his anger, but this was unsettling. She sent a sideways glance at him, finding that his gaze was still set straight ahead. She couldn't even guess at what was going through his mind, and he was giving her nothing through the Force, like he was making every conscious effort of shutting her out.

Turning her gaze to the window, she stared out at the landscape that whizzed by.

The boundless, grassy plains gave way to sloping hills and magnificent mountains, silver waterfalls rushing down from between their rocky crags. Against the slopes there were vast herds of strange animals that faintly reminded her of the lugga beasts back home. She almost jumped out of her seat when she saw a small group of people in the far distance. They were mounted on bird-like creatures, and were shepherding the herds down the slopes towards the lower fields.

She watched until she couldn't see them anymore, and then her gaze followed the river and the trees marching at its side. So many things beckoned her for a closer look, but he had no intention of stopping before they reached their destination. And when he finally did switch off the engine, it was already late afternoon. Yet Rey saw no signs of a village or even any people as she peered out of the windows.

"We'll leave the hovercraft here," he said, startling her. It was the first time he'd spoken to her since that morning, and she was so surprised she almost didn't hear the rest of what he was saying. "I don't want to attract any more attention than necessary. The village is just beyond these hills."

He climbed out of the vehicle and Rey sighed as she was momentarily left alone within the craft. Then she grabbed the satchel of small, tradeable parts and trinkets she'd brought along and followed his lead. The exploration droid and larger parts would have to remain in the hovercraft, to be fetched if needed at all.

There was a nip in the air, as she'd grown accustomed to, but the trees and shrubbery at least blocked some of the wind rushing from over the fields.

She paused, catching the low howl of the wind through the thick, green boughs overhead. Turning her face up, she smiled, admiring the sunlight flickering through the sea of emerald leaves.

"It's beautiful here..." she murmured.

"There is no time to admire the scenery," he snapped, and began marching off.

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself one last moment of listening to the rustle of leaves. Apparently he was still upset, even though half the day was gone already. With a sigh and a slightly concerned frown, she followed after him.

That morning, he'd donned his robes and his hood, which he now had pulled up. Both lightsabers were clipped to his belt; the black upon the left and the silver upon the right. She'd thought about telling him that if he intended to blend in, he was doing the exact opposite, but then again, he probably wasn't inclined to listen.

But one look at his ridged back, and his tightly coiled fists at his sides, and she knew that she couldn't stand this any longer. Not when she didn't even understand _why_ he was upset to begin with.

"Are you ready to tell me why you're angry? Will you please explain what you meant about the song this morning?"

He came to a halt, immediately turning back to face her and she froze in her tracks.

"Enough," he growled. "Enough of this."

He was trembling, a battle waging in his eyes. As he spoke, he came closer, but though her heart began to pound she refused to retreat a single step. "Do not forget why you are here, _scavenger_ –"

"I _haven't_ forgotten," she sneered, feeling her own anger and frustration that had lain dormant throughout the day now quickly bubble to the surface. "But I am not the one who is fleeing from the truth of their own feelings!"

A low growl reverberated from him then, and he suddenly seized her by her upper arms. Her body tensed, gaze widening as he leaned in close.

"The truth? The truth is that I am the Supreme Leader's Apprentice. The truth is that you are speaking of things you can never _possibly_ understand! The truth is that I shall see this through to the end, no matter the cost!"

Abruptly, he let her go, her heart wrenching painfully as he turned away with a shuddered breath.

The wind whistled through the trees; they remained quiet in the crackling storm of emotions sweeping through them.

When he faced her again, he did not look into her eyes. Without a word, he lifted the satchel from her shoulder and slung it over his, before starting to walk off again. She stood watching after him for a moment, fighting the renewed conflict at the gesture. Did he even realize he did these little things? These tiny acts of kindness that she was finding increasingly harder to overlook? Or ignore completely, as he would have her do? Why would he even bother with the satchel if he'd told her he wasn't interested in trading or payment?

How then, could he believe himself heartless? How could he believe he would only end up disappointing her?

And why was he so darned stubborn?!

His words cut through her thoughts. "It shouldn't take long to get the transpacitor. I do not wish to remain longer than necessary."

Letting out a dejected sigh, she followed him. The ground rose as they walked along the trail over the hills. Here and there signs of civilization appeared; a stone wall, a leaning way-marker overgrown with flowering vines, a wagon abandoned by the wayside. With every step, Rey's disquiet slowly built into anticipation. Soon she would get to see the village for herself, and see what the people of this planet was like. She tried to focus on that, and not on the maelstrom of his essence.

As the sun was setting, they left the forest behind and came across the rise to see the horizon blossoming into gold. The last rays of the sun cast the sky in hues of lavender, painting the snow-covered mountain peaks with soft, glowing pinks.

From their vantage point, the hills sloped down towards the glistening river that curved around the foot of the mountains, and on the opposite bank, against the green, sloping hills, was the village.

She drew an astonished breath.

She realized now that the village she'd been imagining this whole time was some dingy little place like Niima Outpost. But oh, how wrong she'd been! This place was larger than any she'd ever seen before! It lay sprawled against the slopes, so many houses and buildings, all made of stone and thatched roofs.

And it was breathtakingly beautiful.

But what truly captivated her gaze was the _windmills_. Upon every roof of every house and every building, there was a great fan, spinning in the breeze - and at the highest point of the village, stood three towering windmills overlooking the settlement.

"It looks like something out of a story," she said in wistful amazement. Unable to tear her gaze away, she stared at the village in wonder. After a moment, she realized that there were throngs of people about – even from this distance, she could see hundreds of them. There seemed to be a buzz in the air, as laughter and music reached them upon the swell of the wind.

When she looked up, she found a severe frown upon his features - he was _glaring_ at the village, studying it intensely.

"What do you think is going on?" she asked.

"It looks like… a festival..." He grunted, a surge of annoyance rising up from him. "A very unnecessary complication."

Rey quietly peered up at him, watching as the breeze tugged at his hood. Absently clutching at the lapels of her coat, she brought them together beneath her chin to keep some of the cold out. "We should be able to blend into the crowd though, right? If it is a festival, I'm sure our presence will probably go entirely unnoticed."

"If I require your opinion, I shall ask for it," he said, turning sharp, dark eyes to her.

She bristled. "Look, I really don't understand what your problem is. And if you don't want to talk to me, then so be it. But there's no need to snap at me when I am only trying to help!"

He sneered, turning his face away, and abruptly curled his hand around her wrist to drag her after him as he started making his way down the hill.

"Hey, what-"

" _Quiet_ ," he snarled, tugging her closer so that she all but stumbled into his shoulder. She uttered a curse beneath her breath, unthinkingly sending a sharp stab of her annoyance at him.

When she managed to find her footing, she looked up to see where he was leading them. They were making their way down the hill, towards a wide, wooden bridge that spanned the river. There were many people down there, some mounted on those bird-like creatures she'd seen earlier, others were walking. They were all heading up towards the village.

He brought them to a halt as they reached the riverside, and this time she _did_ bump into his back with a soft grunt escaping her lips.

He scoffed, clicking his tongue angrily at her. "Can you not walk like a proper human?"

Rey grit her teeth, straightening and trying to pull her wrist out of his grasp. "Not when you're _dragging_ me down the damn hill!"

"Fine then," he growled, and suddenly his hand was upon the small of her back, his palm flattening across her spine. Leaning in towards her ear, he said in a low, husky tone, " _Stay. Close_."

If it were not for the lurch of her heart, she would certainly have snapped a sharp retort at him – but all of her frustration disappeared as his fingers tightened on her back, and he roughly drew her in towards his side. She fit snugly against his tall form, his warmth and the feel of him pressing against her sending an uncontrollable thrill shooting through her.

Her mind was reeling with his closeness, when she felt him reach out through the Force towards the cheerful group of people ahead of them. She quickly realized what he was doing – just a little nudge through the Force ensured that the group would take no notice of them. They fell in behind them without anyone sending so much as a glance their way, effortlessly blending in.

With her heart beating in her throat, she almost didn't take note of the people at all, but what did stand out was the bright colours of their clothing. Purples, golds, oranges, reds - and they all had ribbons in their hair and tied around their wrists, and it seemed that every single person was carrying a lantern. As they stepped onto the bridge, Rey gazed at the strings of lanterns hanging from every post and colourful ribbons waving in the wind amidst garlands of breathtaking flowers.

Despite everything, she could not help but feel a flare of excitement. For a single moment, she did exactly as he had told her not to: she forgot about everything else. She forgot about the reason they were there, she forgot about the very real and dire situation she found herself in, and simply took in the heart-stirring beauty all around her; the anticipation in the air, the thrill evident on everyone's faces, the way he was holding her so close to his side…

For that one moment, she felt part of something larger than herself.

They passed beneath a stone arch bedecked with lanterns and garlands, and then they were in a wide plaza.

And if was not for his firm grasp upon her back, Rey would have come to a dead halt.

There were so many people that the entire street was brimming with them. Everywhere she looked there were people. There were a mixture of races and species, even a few droids. Everyone was laughing and moving cheerfully along the street beneath strings of lights and flags. And above it all, the windmills spun and spun, adding a low, whimsical hum to the music rising from the street performers.

* * *

Kylo Ren could not tear his gaze away from her. She was completely enraptured; her lips were slightly parted, her eyes were large and wide, drinking in everything as though it was the most magnificent thing she'd ever seen. The little lights above their heads reflected in her eyes like stars.

He felt the gleeful stirring of her heart, the astonishment that filtered through her essence into his. And he'd been right. What a spectacle she was, even in this tiny village, staring at this all-but-primitive excuse for a festival that held none of the grandeur of Coruscant's magnificence.

And what did that make him?

When he could not stop staring at _her_?

Sharply turning his face away, he huffed through his nose. Minutes earlier, on the hill, she'd thought him to be annoyed about the many people around. That had certainly been part of the problem, but not entirely… He'd already suspected how the festival would affect her.

He'd known, and he hadn't wanted to see it.

As they moved along the street, a huddle of women danced past them, their bright skirts flaring wide. One of them placed a wreath of flowers upon the scavenger's head, before swirling back into her group and passing out more flowers as she went. He felt the surprise and protest rise up from the scavenger, and he sent a sidelong glance down at her from beneath the rim of his hood. She reached up the properly settle the crown of purple-and-pink flowers upon her head, and as she lowered her hand, he caught her eyes – now turned entirely green in the golden light.

His heart gave a painful tug and he quickly glanced away, resolutely reminding himself of his plan.

Find a trader, get a transpacitor, and _leave_.

Keeping that firmly in mind, he stopped a passer-by. An old woman looked up at him, and he sent out the Force to shroud his appearance from her mind, knowing his scar would probably seem a frightful appearance to anyone. When this conversation was done, she would not be able to recall his appearance.

"Can you tell me where I might find the mechanical trader?"

The woman's eyebrows rose comically high. "Aye son, but there ain't no traders open tonight – not with the festivities an' all."

He grit his teeth. Of course. The very day he decided to bring them here would be the one day the village would be assaulted by a blasted feast!

The woman nonetheless pointed them in the right direction and he briskly began leading them there. Veering through the crowded streets, they passed market stalls and more dancers and musicians, and all the while he felt her presence as keenly as ever – she was absolutely glowing, bright and luminous with amazement at every little thing. Trying to keep his wits about him, he steered them through a narrow side-alley, and then they came to the building, the sign above the door proclaiming _J'Skar's Workshop_.

Letting her go, he quickly tried the door, only to find it locked. That old woman had been right, of course. Why would the place still be open with all of this madness going on?

He swore under his breath, growing more agitated by the minute. He could use the Force to open the door, and they could go in and find what they need and get back out–

A voice boomed from above their heads.

"We're closed, sonny!"

Both Kylo Ren and the scavenger looked up to see a male of the Cathar species peering at them from an open window on the second floor of the building. His wild, extravagant mane almost took up the entire window – within the golden tresses were several thick braids, each woven with strings of amber beads and blood-red ribbons.

Kylo Ren ignored the swell of amusement rising from the scavenger, and her voice inside his head.

_You. Sonny. Hah!_

"And when will you be open for business once more?" he grit out. Perhaps he could persuade the man to just open his shop right now…

"Tomorrow afternoon I suspect. Need to rest up after tonight, after all!" the Cathar exclaimed jovially, and was about to withdraw from the window when Kylo Ren asked, "Do you have hyperdrive parts available – a transpacitor. We are in urgent need of one."

"I suspect so. My son brought a load of parts just this week. Smart boy he is. Good scavenging skills, just like his father."

Clenching his teeth, Kylo Ren continued, "Like I said, our need is urgent. It would not take five minutes of your time-"

The Cathar gave a hearty laugh, one that sounded entirely too similar to the roar of a huge lion, causing Kylo Ren's expression to go slightly stark and stiff. "Oh no, sonny! Can't open the shop for you, no matter how urgent your business is! Disrespectful to work on the eve of the Lantern Festival! Best come back tomorrow!"

With that, the trader disappeared from the window, and shut it with a dull thud.

In a blaze of fury, Kylo Ren's hand shot out towards the door. He felt rather than heard the scavenger's sharp intake of breath. His clawed fingers paused, hovering. They could go in, get the part, and leave, all within a matter of seconds. He would rush them back through the crowds, and they would head straight to the hovercraft. Within a few hours, they could be back, working on the TIE fighter, and as soon as it was fixed, he would…

Slowly, his outstretched fingers curled into a fist.

Trembling, he crushed his knuckles into the wood, relishing in the slightest sting from the wounds that had not yet completely healed.

Why could he not shake her words? Her ridiculous, foolish words, that it was wrong to use the Force in this way. What did she know? She knew _nothing_ , she was like a child, stumbling through the dark, speaking of things she could never possibly–

Her fingers gently came to rest over his fist.

"If it's really what you want, you can choose to go inside."

He did not dare look down at her, knowing he would be powerless if he did.

For he also heard what she didn't say.

That he could choose _not_ to enter.

He refused to believe it was so simple. For all of his life, he'd lived like he'd never had a choice, like this road he'd taken had been inevitable, that he'd been fated to walk it and he'd done so with _pride_.

Hadn't he told her? Hadn't he told her that he'd never chosen this?

That everything he'd done was simply as it had been meant to be?

But how could he continue to believe that, when this girl, this stubborn, tenacious, infuriating girl _chose_ to stay, all alone, on a planet that did not want or need her, all in the name of hope?

A breath flowed out of him.

Without a word, Kylo Ren lowered his trembling hand back to his side.

And as he began walking away, he fiercely refused to acknowledge the mixture of her relief and joy that bloomed through him like a lone flower in the sand.

* * *

Before long, they were back in the main street, amidst the crowds. He came to an abrupt pause. Rey quietly observed him – he was crackling with energy, sparks of different emotions filtering through to her.

But before she could reach out to him, a tall, silver droid came ambling up to her side. In its outstretched arm, it was holding out a… pinwheel? Rey tilted her head, watching as its tiny fan spun in the breeze, flashing its myriad of colours beneath the golden glow of the string-lights above their heads.

Surprised, she looked up to the droid's face – he had a single, blinking eye and a fan that continuously spun upon his head – and in the crook of his arm, he carried a basket filled with pinwheels.

In a few soft beeps and whistles, he told her to take the one he was offering.

"Oh, no that's alright – I couldn't–"

He shook his head, resolutely thrusting the pinwheel at her, and beeped again.

_Free. Take. For Tall Man too._

A slow smile spread across her lips. Reaching out, she took the offered pinwheel and another one from the basket. Bowing her head, she grinned. "Thank you…" a quick glance at the plate on his chest revealed a name, "Flitwick!"

The droid hummed and beeped happily at her before sauntering away through the crowds, handing out pinwheels as he went.

She was still grinning when she turned to look up at Ben. He was staring down at her with something like shock and wonder, overshadowed by a solemn edge. Tilting her head slightly, she held up the pinwheel to his face and gently blew upon its fan, so that it spun before his eyes.

"For you, Tall Man," she teased, echoing the droid's name for him.

As though in a daze, he reached up and curled his fingers around the stem of the pinwheel, fingertips lingering over hers for a burning moment.

Then he took it, and looked as though it was the single most bizarre thing in all the world. Rey couldn't help it. She laughed. All of the tense energy of the day suddenly came rushing bright, shaking laughter that only intensified as her shoulders shook.

His displeased expression only made it worse, and suddenly she was leaning into him, hiding her face in the folds of his cloak.

When she finally calmed down, and looked back up to him, his expression had softened, the corner of his mouth tilted ever so slightly upwards.

"Come. I saw an inn on our way over to the trader," he said, and began walking.

She fell into step beside him, clutching her pinwheel against her chest and frowning up at him. "An inn?"

"We shall be staying the night," he clarified, and Rey could not restrain the brilliant smile breaking across her features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey's memory of the spinebarrel flower is based on canon. And if you were interested, the village I used for visual inspiration is the [Ushguli village](https://www.google.co.za/search?q=ushguli+village&tbm=isch&source=iu&pf=m&ictx=1&fir=QqkPnSV4cOwZoM%253A%252CTfMw9w8cvvPN6M%252C_&usg=__palmUc9kcXwmofZQmyd7SE4erLo%3D&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiJsMi15rTXAhWCxxQKHTlNCqQQ9QEIMTAC#imgrc=_). It's a beautiful place. Next time, we shall see what they get up to during the festival… ;)
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading - and remember, feedback is golden! :)


	10. Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that everyone probably has their own idea of what they’d like to see happen during this “date” chapter :) So I really hope this doesn’t disappoint… I worked very hard on it. It is a bit of a turning point for our two beloved characters, one which will have a great impact on the rest of the story.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your incredible feedback and support! :)
> 
>  **Song:** [I Giorni by Ludovico Einaudi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2K7D-uMH2g). If you want, go listen to this while reading the chapter. This song greatly influenced the atmosphere and mood of the festival, as well as Rey and Ben’s interactions :)

* * *

# 10

## Burning

_But I found in you, what was lost in me_

_In a world so cold and empty_

_I could lie awake just to watch you breathe_

_In the dead of night, you en-dark on me_

Dark on me, Starset

* * *

The innkeeper was not at all very pleased with them. As she bustled about, serving drinks to all manner of species, she clucked her tongue, saying they couldn’t very well expect a room – let alone _two_ rooms – when _everyone_ from _everywhere_ had come especially for the festival! They would simply have to go to another inn or–

But a sinister glower from Kylo Ren quickly refreshed her memory. She _did_ have one last room available! It was in the attic, and very tiny, but would do for an evening, if the two of them didn’t mind sharing!

The woman was willing to let them stay for free – no-doubt simply to be out from under the intensity of his gaze, but the scavenger insisted on giving her some compensation. She motioned for him to place the satchel on the bar, and as he did so, she began rummaging through it, taking out several bits and pieces that she offered to the innkeeper.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kylo Ren noticed a man seated several seats down; he was cloaked, though the hood lay crumpled around his shoulders, and his bushy beard was dripping from the drink he was chugging back. When he lowered his tankard, the man sent a lingering, sidelong glance in their direction.

 _No_ , Kylo Ren realized with a deepening frown.

Not at _them_.

Only at the scavenger.

The human male’s gaze roved over her form; from her face, all the way down her body before traveling back up once more.

Kylo Ren did not appreciate that stare.

At all.

And only the briefest brush against the man’s mind revealed that there were no pure intentions mingled within the haze of liquor.

Flaring from his chest outwards, something dark twisted through him; something that made his blood boil in a way he could not recall experiencing before. Without removing his gaze from the stranger, his arm curved possessively around the scavenger’s waist, subtly drawing her closer to him.

He watched with a darkening scowl as the man’s eyes briefly flickered up to meet his, before quickly shifting back down to his drink.

The scavenger was so busy negotiating with the innkeeper that she didn’t notice, but as soon as her business concluded she became aware of his touch. A current of energy swept through her, buzzing through her blood and straight into his. It made his heart skip a beat – an echo of her own leaping heart – and he gave a shuddered huff of breath, hoping in vain it would hide his reaction.

Then he was shouldering the satchel and briskly leading them back outside. He wanted her out from under that perverse gaze, and neither did he quite trust himself to ignore the perplexing fury simmering in his gut. But as soon as they stepped into the main street, he realized he’d had no clear destination in mind and came to a halt.

All around them the world was darkening – the sky was no longer awash with red or gold, but fading into turquoise and deep-blue.

“I wonder what they would have done if it had rained,” she said at his side, gazing up at the first twinkling stars.

He hummed beneath his breath, having briefly wondered the same thing.

“Do you think… we can… take a look around?”

His gaze met hers. When he’d told her they were staying, he hadn’t intended to take part in the festivities. His plan had simply been to find an inn, stay the night, and leave once they'd acquired the transpacitor.

And yet…

Gazing down at her, noting how she clutched both pinwheels against her chest, how those awaiting eyes were bright with excitement and expectation …

He gave a single nod, instantly rewarded with her elation spilling into him.

Without warning, she grabbed his hand, weaving her fingers through his. Tilting her head, she scrunched her nose. “Do you think they’ll have fireworks?”

She was smiling _that_ smile.

And for a single, leaping heartbeat, he could fool himself into thinking it was just for him.

“I doubt it,” he grunted.

His tone of voice did not deter her in the slightest – she chuckled, laughing off his annoyance like it was nothing.

…And she was still holding his hand.

This night was truly _not_ going according to plan–

“Oh, isn’t that the trader?” she asked.

It was indeed. The male Cathar was making his way through the crowd; his extravagant mane alone made him an impressive sight, but with his tall, bulking frame he towered above most of the other species.

Before Kylo Ren knew what was happening, she was tugging him along, heading straight towards the Cathar.

“Master Trader!” she called as they neared, and he paused to look down at them. Something akin to amusement spread across his feline features, his amber eyes twinkling.

“Why, if it isn’t you two again. Came for a second round of persuading me to open the shop?”

She shook her head and smiled. “Oh, no, in fact, we're sorry about that! We’re not from around here. We meant no disrespect to your festival.”

 _We are not sorry_ , Kylo Ren muttered glumly and somewhat exasperatedly through their connection. What was she getting at?

A wide grin broke across the trader’s face – or rather, he hoped it was a grin and not a feral baring of fangs.  

“Ah it is quite alright, lass. No harm done! If it were any other day I would have gladly been of assistance to you. But do come back tomorrow! I will be happy to help you then.”

“Thank you, you are most kind,” she said with a polite bow of her head.

He gave a boisterous roar of a laugh, and met Kylo Ren’s gaze. “You should have let her do the talking, sonny. I might have opened the shop for you after all!”

There was something in that amber gaze - something that made his senses tingle as though he was facing another Force user, despite the Cathar showing no signs of being Force-sensitive. Kylo Ren’s eyes narrowed calculatingly. He had the feeling he was dealing with a keen, perceptive individual. Even so, a blank expression was the only response the trader received from him, which only made him chuckle that much harder.

“Master Trader,” the scavenger said. “What is this festival about, exactly? Is it alright if we attend?”

The Cathar placed a huge, golden paw upon her shoulder. “Please, call me J'skar. And of course, lass. Everyone is welcome to attend. You think all these people are from Neverant?” He chuckled and sent a wistful gaze at the crowds around them. “We call it the Lantern Festival. It is a festival of light and living, of saying goodbye to the past and welcoming the future with hope. Later tonight, we will all go down the river and light a lantern, which we’ll send down upon the stream. It serves as the symbolic farewell to the past, and embracing whatever comes with an open heart.”

Another baring of teeth, as he gave her shoulder a relatively gentle pat. Kylo Ren clenched his jaw, despite knowing this male was nothing at all like the human from the inn. 

“That is a beautiful thing to celebrate. We would be honoured to attend,” she replied with a wide smile. Then she gestured to the red ribbons woven into the Cathar's mane. “And the ribbons? Everyone is wearing them! And I’ve noticed some of them have inscriptions…”

“Ah, indeed!” the Cathar exclaimed, holding up one of his ribbon-woven tresses to the light. “It is quite an old tradition. The ribbons are meant as gifts for the ones we care about. The inscriptions are the words you wish for that person to carry with them into the future. They can be anything. Most range from wishes for love or families, or for prosperity in the year to come.” With a sweep of his paw, he gestured to the market stalls all around them. “You will find quite a few stalls that provide the ribbons and lettering, free of charge. Now, I hope to see you down at the river tonight. Please enjoy the festivities, and we shall conduct our business tomorrow!”

He gave the scavenger another little pat, this time on her flower-adorned head – somehow managing not to squash a single petal – which made her chuckle and exclaim a gleeful thank you. The Cathar nodded, giving a last lingering look at Kylo Ren, before he strode off into the crowd.

When she turned to face him, he was glaring down at her with frustration he didn’t quite understand himself.

“Was all of that really necessary?” he asked in exasperation.

But she only smiled, tucked his pinwheel into his belt, and shrugged.

“I just wanted to make sure it’s alright for us to be here. It's generally a good thing to respect the culture of the native people, even if you don't necessarily agree with their views. Now… Shall we?”

With a relenting sigh, he nodded, and let himself be led off towards the rows of market stalls.

* * *

Rey couldn’t stop moving. There was simply too much to see! She flitted between the market stalls like a little hummingbird from flower to flower. Every stall had its own collection of trinkets that drew her gaze: strings of beads, finely detailed woodcarvings, lanterns painted with the most intricate designs, pottery and cutlery, vivid scarves in every colour she could think of… There were stalls of armour and others that had all types of clothing on display; from masks, to shoes and boots, and entire arrays of robes.

She was reminded of the Carnival Week she'd glimpsed through Ben's memory - but even here, in this village that could probably not compare to the magnificence of Corcuscant, she found herself fascinated by the beauty all around her. She would exclaim in awe whenever something caught her eye, and she'd point it all out to him, asking him for an explanation whenever she came across something unfamiliar. Like the handheld fans, made from the prettiest feathers! Stars, what she wouldn't have given for one of those back on Jakku!

All the while, he stayed at her side; their fingers brushed when they stood pressed closely within the crowd, and his chest would form a solid wall of warmth behind her whenever she paused for a closer look. 

He remained quiet, for the most part.

But there was nothing of the bitter tension of that morning left between them.

And her heart sang because of it.

The stall that brought her to a complete halt was the one selling staves. They were made of a dark, lacquered wood; each had its own unique leather wrapping around the handle and intricately carved grooves inlaid with lustrous elements. There were other wares on the table as well – knives with beautifully crafted hilts and spears laquered blood-red – but the staves captivated her.

“Made from the wood of the Brylark tree, Miss!” the owner said, noticing her entrancement with the weapons.

“Brylark tree?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Indeed, Miss! Strong as steel and twice as beautiful! Worthy of any salted warrior.”

“They’re incredible…” Rey breathed, her fingertips hovering over the staves until they paused over one that instantly reminded her of her quarterstaff back home.

“May I?” she asked the owner, and he motioned for her to go ahead as she reverently picked up the staff.

It was far lighter than she’d imagined, but perfectly balanced and smooth to the touch. Not a single splinter or rough groove. The craftsmanship was remarkable.

“I was not aware this planet had Brylark trees,” Ben spoke low beside her ear as the owner helped another customer. “It is rare, but there are some who prefer their lightsaber hilt to be carved from this wood.”

“What, really?” she asked, glancing up in surprise.

Her heart stuttered when she realised how close he was.

He nodded, holding out his hand and she passed him the weapon. “It is an ancient practice, not often seen today.”

With a keen eye, he inspected the quarterstaff, testing its weight and its balance. “Hm. This is indeed a decent weapon,” he muttered thoughtfully. As he handed it back to her, his eyes gained a playful light and she found herself admiring the swoop of his long eyelashes. “I did not realize you had an interest in quarterstaves.”

Tearing her gaze away from him, Rey returned the exquisite staff to the table, her fingertips lingering for another moment before she smiled. “I had one back on Jakku, actually. Got me out of quite a few sticky situations.”

She shrugged. “It certainly is no lightsaber… but it was a good weapon. A companion, in a sense.”

With a last look, she began moving again. He followed, his presence like a shadow at her back, and her mind was still reeling with the unexpected turn the day had taken. When she'd woken up that morning, she would never have expected her evening to be filled with such breathtaking sights. The entire day had been strained with tension, and she still did not quite know where she stood with him - but now, here she was at his side, walking through a scene that was like something out of a fairy tale.

_All of this might as well be a dream._

A dream she was certain would end any moment. 

But like in the fairytales, it only got better.

They entered a round plaza with a fountain at its center, and a wave of delicious smells washed over them. A quick glance at the stalls told her that they’d reached a little piece of heaven – the food district! Every single table was laden with dishes – freshly baked goods, steaming stews, baskets upon baskets of fresh fruits, large barrels of drinks and so many things she didn’t even recognize.

Her stomach gave a loud, excited rumble.

Suddenly, a low, dancing chuckle rumbled through his chest, and Rey’s gaze snapped up to him in disbelief. In that instant, a rush of butterflies fluttered through her belly as she watched while he hid his smile behind gloved fingers, but not before she’d glimpsed it in all of its heart-stopping glory; from the way his eyes lit up and crinkled ever so slightly, to the dimples playing around his mouth.

Stars, he was _beautiful_.

It was the very first time she’d heard him laugh – a _real_ laugh that was neither dark nor twisted – and it left her entirely breathless, absolutely dying for more. And to think it was such a silly thing to have caused it. She almost hoped her stomach would growl again, if only to have him laugh once more!

He lowered his hand, his smile lingering in the corners of his mouth, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should probably stop staring. He was starting to notice, and she refused to ever blush in his presence again.

She forced her gaze away – but as she dabbed her fingertips against her cheeks, she found they were already blazing hot. By the moon, this was what a single laugh of his did to her?

She felt his amusement stir against her like a warm ray of sunshine, causing her to catch his twinkling eyes. He opened his lips to speak, but she hastily interrupted. “Not a word,” she quipped and stormed off towards the nearest stall, hoping her embarrassment wasn’t as obvious as she feared.

He quickly caught up to her, and through their connection he felt warm, and light, and it was making her head swim. Not once had she felt such things from him before. He’d only ever been dark, and solemn and tormented. This change was dangerous, and would mean nothing good for her conflicted heart. Even now she was staring blankly down at all of the deliciousness laid out on the table before her, without a single one of those dishes registering in her mind.

“Perhaps I shall take the lead, now,” he murmured right against the nape of her neck, his husky tone sending a thrill chasing down her spine.

Stricken eyes snapped to him as he stepped around her, only to find herself further disarmed by the sideways smirk tugging at his lips.

Her heart leapt, and she dropped her gaze.

Chuckling, he curled his fingers around her wrist and gently tugged her forward, as he began leading them around the plaza. It was a good thing too, because Rey was soon gaping at all of the food around them. Somehow, his arm had found its way around her waist again, and he steered her from stall to stall, telling her the names of the dishes he recognized, and what they were made of.

All the while, her heart was like a caged bird, fluttering within the hollow of her ribs.

* * *

Her expressions were priceless. He would hand her little bite-sized tasters and she would take it, give it a curious inspection, nibble on it, and then devour the whole thing before looking up at him for more. He found himself watching the tiny details in her face; the fluttering of her long lashes when something tasted particularly good, the widening of her eyes or an appreciative inhale, the tip of her tongue darting across her lower lip to lick it clean of a droplet of sauce…

It seemed he’d discovered a new type of torture.

Finally, they decided on a stir-fry dish with rice and an arrangement of colourful vegetables. They took a seat on the edge of the fountain to enjoy their meal. For a couple of minutes, they shared a comfortable silence, surrounded by the lilt of music mingling with the din of the crowds and the soft trickling of the fountain.

“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted something this good,” she said around her last mouthful.

He shook his head. “You said that about every single thing you tasted.”

“Well, it was true every time,” she grinned and placed her empty bowl aside. Then her eyes widened, and she was suddenly off into the crowd again, satchel in hand. His bemused gaze followed after her, watching as she went over to one of the dessert stalls. Barely a few moments later, he felt a swell of her excitement rush through him. She was hurrying back, carrying something in each hand.

“Ben!”

She was grinning wider than he’d ever seen before, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“Ben, look! I found _these_! Apple pies! Aren’t they just amazing?” she asked, presenting them so he could see.

Stars, she really was like a child.

And her wonder was infectious, causing his lips to tilt into a smile.

“Here, this one’s for you,” she said and held one towards him.

He hoped she was unaware of the whirlwind of emotions spiraling through him at such a simple, meaningless gesture. A little dazed, he took the pastry and she sat down upon the ground, her back against the fountain’s edge.

As she settled, her shoulder brushed against his thigh.

But she didn’t seem to notice, promptly biting into her dessert. “Oh my _stars_ ,” she moaned, elation glazing across her eyes. “Okay. I mean it this time. I’ve _really_ never tasted anything this good.”

A soft laugh left his lips. Taking a bite of his, he found that it was rather good, but even its pleasant flavours couldn’t distract him from the sight of her. Every bite she took she _relished_ ; her eyes were closed and an expression of absolute enjoyment lingered on her face. When she finished, she began licking her fingers; her lips were plump and red and stained with a soft dusting of lingering sugar.

What was this feeling rising up inside of him? This lightness, this _madness_ that made him feel like maybe, for the first time in his whole life, he was exactly where he was meant to be?

Then she let out a soft, contented sigh and leaned her head against his knee.

His heart jolted, flaring heat and apprehension through his chest. Which only worsened when she turned her head slightly, her cheek still resting gently against him as she peered up at him from beneath that ridiculous flower crown, all owlishly-big eyes and smiling lips and wistful expression.

It only incited his mess of crazy feelings.

All he wanted to do was run his fingertips through her hair, trace them down the nape of her neck, tilt her chin up to taste the sugar on her lips–

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my entire life,” she murmured before tresting her temple against his leg like she was settling in to fall asleep right then and there.

He curled his hands into fists, fighting the dizzying pounding of his heart. “If you’re tired, we should go back to the inn.”

She quickly sat up, and twisted to face him fully. “What? No! I want to stay! We should go to the river later, like the trader said.”

He scowled. Walking through the market stalls was one thing, but participating in this primitive and ridiculous ritual of ‘saying goodbye to the past’? The sound of it made him want to cringe and scoff at the same time.

Besides, he thought with a darkening expression, what future did he have to welcome with open arms? The only thing that laid ahead of him was a road of darkness.  

Strange, that it no longer seemed to beckon him the way it should.

Her fingertips gently came to rest on his knee, drawing him out of his shadowy thoughts. “We don’t have to go for their reasons,” she said quietly. “We can go for our own.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” she gave a little sigh, biting her lip as she thought. “I mean that, we can just go because it would be nice to watch the lanterns drifting down the stream. We don’t have to take part in the _symbolic_ meaning.”

Slowly, amusement spread across his lips. “I thought you said it was wise to respect the natives' culture.”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I also said you don't necessarily have to agree with their views.”

He huffed a breathless laugh, holding her gaze and watching as her smile widened. Slowly, he shook his head, glancing away.

“What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Her features softened again, and she nodded, gaze trailing wistfully over their surroundings. “I am… I’ve never seen so many people in one place. And so many beautiful things…  And everyone just seems happy. It’s wonderful.”

She met his eyes, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. “And you don’t seem to be having a completely terrible time, either.”

He gave an amused grunt. “It is… not entirely unpleasant.”

She laughed, and warmth unfurled through his chest.

“Not entirely unpleasant?” she asked playfully. “You are so hard to please. What would make it more pleasant then?”

For a fleeting moment, his eyes flickered down to her lips, unbidden images swirling through his head before he tore his gaze away. “Nothing attainable.”

His heart was still pounding, when she abruptly rose to her feet. “I’m going to go find us some lanterns.”

He gave a minute nod, and she left without another word.  

Releasing a deep sigh, he remained a solitary figure at the fountain, cursing himself for his completely irrational behaviour. What was he thinking? What was he _doing_? Where had his resolve disappeared to? This morning, he’d been so focused, so fixed in his purpose once again.

It had gotten him through this day, up until the moment in front of that trader’s door.

When he realized that he was fighting a battle he could never hope to win.

With another sigh, he looked up, and a particular stall caught his eye. Without thought, he got to his feet and made his way over, his eyes trailing over the sea of swaying ribbons. In the flickering, golden glow of the nearby braziers, he was drawn towards a single one that captured his gaze. He reached out, allowing it to flow across his fingers, watching it flash emerald green in the warm light.

* * *

Rey was peering over the shoulders of the people in front of her, waiting in the line at the lantern stall they’d passed earlier. Fingers fidgeting at her sides, she let out a tiny sigh.

_Nothing attainable…_

Her fist reached up to press against her chest.

Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

She’d felt sparks of his desire stir through their bond, but desire did not mean that he _cared_. Which made things even more difficult, because she knew that he must have felt her own desire in return, for it was impossible to hide. It was stronger than anything she’d ever felt before, growing completely out of her control, infused in every moment she looked at him.

Could she allow those words to give her hope? Or would hoping for this, for _him_ , only make it worse when he inevitably pushed her away again?

Oh, stars, how was she ever going to survive this?

Another dejected sigh, as she moved to the front of the line. She bartered two plain but pretty lanterns, and started to head back towards the fountain, her gaze downcast.

When, suddenly, something seized her wrist.

In a blur, she was yanked out of the main street and into a quiet alley. A cry flew from her lips, her lanterns and satchel tumbling to the ground as she was wrenched forward. For a bewildering second, she thought it was Ben, but the moment a sweaty hand clamped across her mouth, she knew she’d landed into trouble.

With a confused squeal of protest she found her back pressed against the wall. A _man_ ; a cloaked, gaunt man was pinning her, stiflingly close and leering at her with gleaming eyes.

“Finally, it’s just you and me,” he chuckled, the stench of alcohol permeating his breath. He leaned in close, his beard scratching against her exposed neck. It sent a violent wave of revulsion shuddering through her, igniting into resistance. With all the ferocity and might she could muster, she thrust her heel down upon his boot, her cry muffled against his slick palm.

He howled in shock, releasing his hold on her. Her hands shot forward, grabbing him by the shoulders to lock him in place as she kneed him hard in the groin.

Sputtering curses, he doubled over, but she was already fleeing, pulse racing–

With a savage growl, he lunged and caught her leg. She crashed hard onto her knees, sharp stabs of pain shooting up through her thighs, her heart throbbing in her throat as she scrambled forward.

“You’re not getting away that easily!” He seized her by her hair and yanked her to her feet. She screamed in pain, hands flying up to her head, as petals from the ruined flower crown rained down all around her.

* * *

Kylo Ren was striding back towards the fountain, the ribbon safely tucked within the inner pocket of his robes, when, suddenly, a stab of fear cut through him.

He froze, eyes hazing over as he focused on the sensation; it was brief, sharp, and followed by a rush of determination.

Within a moment he was moving, his widened gaze lighting up with something wild and frantic. He ran, shoving past people and stalls as he came up the main street, following her essence with his heart pounding like a hammer against his ribs. All of his senses honed in on her so profoundly he could feel the pain shooting up through her knees, the rough hands grabbing at her, the sharp pain lancing through her head as she was yanked back by her hair.

And then, her fear flared into terror.

It propelled him forward, his own dread spiking through him as he raced into the quiet, narrow alley.

He saw them.

A man was holding her back, clutching her by her hair and dragging her further into the gloom as she scrambled and kicked

It was the drunkard from the bar. The one who couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

Devastating rage swept like a wildfire through his veins, turning everything into a blur. All he could see was the arms enclosing around her, the fierceness upon her face, the desperation in her eyes, the wicked sneer and gleaming gaze of the cloaked man.

In a heart-stopping moment, Kylo Ren thrust out his palm and let the Force burst forward, enclosing around the man’s throat to pull him straight into his awaiting palm. There was a single, brief moment, in which he was satisfied to see fierce terror replace the villainous gleam in those hazy eyes.

With a vice-like grip around the tender throat, Kylo Ren slammed the drunkard up against the wall with merciless strength. There was a gratifying crack and grunt of pain, before the assailant's head lolled, severely dazed. But Kylo Ren only increased the strength of his grip, letting the Force assault his prisoner's breathing, as he relished the thought of extinguishing the life from this miscreant–

From the corner of his vision, fingertips grabbed his outstretched arm.

“Wait!”

He glared at her. In his current state, he almost couldn’t focus on her; almost didn’t notice that her gaze was filled with fear, and something entirely inscrutable.  

“He does not need to _die_ ,” she said firmly, fingers tightening upon his arm.

His chest shuddered with unbearable, seething anger.

“And why is that?”

“Because he’s senselessly drunk!”

“He could have killed you. Or worse.”

“But he didn’t.” She inched closer, gazing intently up at him. “Please, Ben… Let him go.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You would say that after what he tried to do?”

She gave a tiny nod.

Shaking with adrenaline-fueled rage, Kylo Ren turned his face away from the scavenger to lean in close to his prisoner. Every instinct in his body was screaming to end this scumbag’s life right here and now. The man’s face was viciously red, veins stark upon his throat. He was making little gasps and choking noises, probably pleas of mercy. It brought a gleeful sneer to Kylo Ren’s lips. “If I ever see you so much as look in her direction again – it would be the last mistake you ever make.” With forceful vehemence, he threw him down upon the ground, and watched as he struggled and heaved for breath.

“You will turn yourself in to the authorities. And you will not attempt to harm anyone else,” Kylo Ren hissed. The compulsion was quick to take root. The drunkard stumbled to his feet, and headed back towards the main street with wobbly steps. But even after the drunk was out of sight, Kylo Ren was unable to move for fear he would ignite into flames. His blood had turned molten, burning through his bones, though his chest, through his heart.

“And if I hadn’t shown up…” he sneered, low and menacing, “Do you think he would have spared you after he'd had his way with you?”

Only then did his eyes return to her. She was clenching her hands into fists at her sides, glaring daggers at him, her entire being aglow with enmity – but he hardly noticed. All that mattered was the smudge of dirt on her cheek, the disheveled state of her clothing.

The ruined remains of the flower crown, its crushed petals still caught in her hair.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” she grit out. “Do you really think this is the first time something like this happened to me? I grew up on a planet crawling with thugs and bandits with no one around to protect me but myself!”

“Then you should know better!” he roared, his wrath cloaking him like a choking, smouldering shadow. “It is your _foolishness_ that will get you killed! You only see the light and the goodness in everyone – even in those that deserve to die!”

Even in monsters like him.

Her eyes flashed, but she did not raise her voice. “And you only see the _darkness_.”

“And why shouldn’t I?”  He was assaulted by something wicked and reckless – something he couldn’t control. It was flaring out from beneath his skin, pouring from every part of his being. “What has the light ever brought me other than despair? Where was the light when I needed it? The very people who fight for the light were the ones who _abandoned_ me in the first place!”

With something like satisfaction, he watched as she flinched with hurt. But he continued, drawing closer, until there was barely a hand’s breadth between them. “There are many ways in which to be abandoned, and not all of them involve being left upon deserted planets. What do you think my family did when they realized the power I possessed?”

He sneered, snatching her wrist. “They _feared_ me. And they were right to fear me. For the light will always bow to the darkness!”

He was close now, close enough for the agony in her eyes to somehow filter through his haze of fury. “The Supreme Leader is the only one to have ever believed in my abilities without fear. He gave me a purpose. He showed me the road I was meant to walk. And he’s the only one to have ever believed in _me._ ”

With a sharp pang of her anguish slicing through him, she wrenched away, her eyes lighting up with more fierceness than he’d ever seen.  

“If you really believe that, then _you_ are the fool!” she exclaimed, her voice bordering on hysteric. “You think your Master _cares_ about you? That he _believes_ in you? You are just a pawn to him! A pawn he will sweep aside the very moment he no longer needs you!”

She was shaking her head, and her spirit flared with misery and fury, so brightly he felt like she was searing him. 

When she spoke again, her voice was low and quiet.

“I believe in you, Ben. I believe in the part of you that is still kind, and hopeful and unable to succumb to the darkness.”

His heart felt like it would burst. He couldn’t breathe; couldn’t comprehend what she was saying, mind still reeling with overwhelming rage the like of which he’d never felt before. But beneath all of that, beneath the fury…

He was afraid.

His fear had flamed his rage.

His fear _for her_.

And it only intensified when she suddenly balled her fists and sneered up at him. “But I’m nothing to you! I’m nothing but a worthless scavenger, aren’t I? A single grain of sand in a world made of dust! You don’t care about me! You said it yourself – the only reason I’m still alive is because of that damned _map_ inside my head!”

Angry tears gleamed in her eyes when she slammed her palms against his chest, and for all the world it felt like she was piercing his heart. “Well then you can _have_ it!”

She shoved him, hard. “You can _have_ it and you can go to hell for all I care!”

She whirled around, rushing away in a swirl of stormy emotions, and with every step she took his heartbeat sped up, beating in a frantic cadence, building and building–

“Wait!” He lunged forward, catching her wrist and tugging her back, but she was _fighting_ him, sharp stabs of her pain twisting through him like knives in his heart.

“Let me _go_ ,” she pleaded, desperately trying to wrench free from him.

But he couldn’t let her go.

“ _Rey!_ ”

Her name left his lips like a plea, a prayer, laced with all the depth of his torment.

She stopped.

The world spun to a standstill, shrinking to his heart pounding in his chest, to her, slowly looking up at him, to the hurt and the disbelief in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m _sorry_ ,” he murmured, low and rushed, the words spilling out of him from a place where he could no longer keep them concealed. “You are _not_ worthless. You-"

His throat locked.

He did care.

Damn it all, he cared more than he’d ever cared about anything or anyone in his entire life.

He gently cupped her face, desperately gazing into her eyes, all the while feeling her resistance like ice in his veins. “You were right. About this morning. I _was_ fleeing. I wanted to believe you put that song inside my head. I wanted to believe you’ve been lying and tricking me all this time. That all you cared about was luring me to the light."

He shook his head slightly. “But you’ve been honest about your intentions from the very first minute, when you asked me to come with you.”

She still wasn’t saying anything. She only stared at him with those stark, stunned eyes. Inhaling a strained breath, his thumbs stroked across her cheeks. “You told me that I judge everything too harshly. That I should give it a chance to surprise me... I was not surprised when my parents sent me away. I was not surprised to find the same fear reflected in my uncle’s eyes. I knew what I was. It gave me a purpose, a sense of belonging…”

He was trembling now, wrought with dread and an overwhelming yearning to crush his lips against hers. In a breathless whisper, he added, “Until you, Rey. You are the first thing to ever surprise me.”

His eyes flickered to the smear of dirt on her cheek, to the fading scrape across her cheekbone that was still a testament to his blinding rage days before.

“And yet I am worse than this very man who tried to attack you...” For a moment his eyes squeezed shut, his face turning away. “I can only ever hurt you.”

And it took every shred of his willpower to pull away.

* * *

Rey couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t breathe and she was shaking with adrenaline, disbelief and a type of fear she’d never known before.

He’d said her name.

Like that first night, he'd said her name.

And when he withdrew, her pulse nearly stopped.

Panic surged through her, sending her body reaching forward of its own will. She threw her arms around his neck, felt the shock ripple through him as she melted into him, holding on for dear life. For a brief, bizarre moment, she was assaulted by the reminder of just how tall he was – she was standing on her tiptoes, and he was bending forward slightly, and even so it felt like her feet would lift off the ground if he straightened. It brought a soft, disbelieving laugh to spill from her lips, muffled against his collarbone.

And still he did not move.

“This is called a hug,” she whispered. “You’re supposed to be returning it.”

Achingly slowly, he wrapped her within the circle of his strong arms; loosely at first, and then tightening into a warm, crushing embrace. She heard his snagging inhale, felt his nose bury in her hair. Felt a sense of desperation from him as he clung to her, like she might break, like she might still leave him alone.

Her fingers fisted into his cloak, her mind spinning with everything he’d just told her, and everything that she didn’t know how to say.

But she could _show_ him.

If her courage would not fail her.

Gently, she loosened her hold, until only her fingers were still linked behind his neck and she was able to look up at him. She swallowed, hard, closing her eyes, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. The sensation of comfort and solace flaring through them both left her momentarily stunned.

Until, she opened her eyes, and found his umber gaze staring intently into hers.

Desire sparked in her veins, his leaping heartbeat resonating through her as she found herself being pushed backwards until her back met the wall, his hands somehow finding their way to her hips. Her palms slid down from his neck, across his chest, to finally rest upon his heart – and she felt his fingers tightening into her flesh with deepening desperation. Her heart was beating out of control as he lowered his head towards her neck. He grazed his lips against the slope of her throat and she whimpered, going weak in his arms.

“Ben,” she pleaded, breathless and shuddering.

She wanted this. Surely he must know just how badly she wanted this.

“Rey,” he murmured, tangling a hand into her hair and pulling away slightly to meet her eyes. “I-“

The sound of loud, raucous laughter rose up from the street. Both of them turned to look, noticing the group of people moving past the opening of the alley. They were all carrying unlit lanterns.

When she returned her gaze to his, the corner of his mouth was lifted in a tiny smile, a somber look settling in his eyes. “We should probably make our way down to the river."

Her throat constricted, robbing her of her voice. All she could do was nod, and watch as he pulled away.

For a moment she remained frozen in place, feeling an unreasonable hurt racking through her chest. But then, he grabbed her hand, weaving their fingers together.

“Come. Or we’ll be late. You don’t want to miss the lanterns drifting down the stream, do you?”

Slowly, the hurt dissipated as she gazed into his eyes, and she found her own smile as she shook her head. He began leading them out of the alley, only to pause again when he picked up the lanterns and their satched she’d dropped earlier. Aside from a few specks of dust, the lanterns seemed to be no worse for wear.

Taking one, Rey looked up at him. “Ben?”

He stopped, meeting her eyes.

“Thank you. You… came for me. You saved me once again. And I’m grateful.”

She watched as a slow smile spread across his lips. “And how could I not… when you are the only thing worth saving.”

Heat and butterflies cascaded through her blood at his words, and only intensified when he took her hand once again, locking their fingers tightly together.

* * *

They were sitting on the grassy bank beside the wide, mirror-smooth river. The water was inky black, broken only by the gentle reflection of the lights from the village. The ceremony had yet to begin, but it seemed that everyone had come down to the riverside to gather around the bridge they’d crossed earlier. The two of them had managed to find a relatively quiet spot downstream, in order to get a good view of the lanterns when they would float by.

Rey was kneeling in the slightly damp grass, Ben sitting at her side. It was cold here at the waterside, away from the warmth of the village, and their breath misted into the late-night air. But she was so excited that she barely noticed the cold, her eyes focused on those gathered at the bridge.

“Oh, I think it’s starting,” she gasped, noticing how a hush of anticipation fell over the crowds, like everyone was holding their breath.

And then, music.

A beautiful, whimsical tune rose up from the bridge, sending a murmur of movement rippling through everyone present. All along the riverside lanterns flickered to life; lighting up the night like swarms of soaring fireflies, casting hues of gold and orange upon the water.

Rey was grinning in wonder, completely entranced as she watched people from every species delicately place their lanterns upon the inky water. And the river became a sky all of its own, a sky of blazing stars. The first lanterns were nearing their spot, like glowing water lilies drifting lazily down the gentle stream. Children raced along the river, laughing and exclaiming merrily as they followed their lanterns.

“This is incredible… it’s so beautiful…” she murmured, a sense of amazement sweeping through her, buzzing through her entire body and making her fingertips tingle.

Feeling the same sense of wonder rise up from him, she turned to face him, smiling widely, to find he was already watching her. When their eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze.

“Shall we?” He gestured to their lanterns that lay in the grass between them.

She nodded and scooted closer. In the hollow between them, they lit their lanterns, the soft glow dancing across their features. Side by side, they leaned forward and placed them upon the water, Rey grinning from ear to ear as theirs soon joined the others in their journey down the river.  

“I… have something for you,” he said, and she looked up at him in surprise.

“For me?” she asked, puzzled.

Silently, he took something from out of an inner pocket, and met her gaze. He had his hood pulled up, and it cast a shadow over most of his face, but as a scattering of lanterns drifted past they highlighted his somber features. Their glow reflected in his eyes, eclipsing the umber into dark amber. He was starkly beautiful; alluringly resminscent of a lethal predator. And the way he was looking at her with such unwavering intensity sent a thrill coursing through her veins, turning her heart into a luminous beacon all of its own.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

It took a moment for her to register the words, before she dubiously stretched out her hand towards him.

“Close your eyes.”

Heart pounding, Rey shut her eyes, and felt his slender fingers gently tugging on her sleeve to expose her wrist. Something silky brushed across her skin, and a spark of electricity ran all the way up her arm to ignite warmth in her belly.

“There,” he murmured, against the shell of her ear.

Lashes fluttering open, she looked down, to see an exquisite, rich-green ribbon tied around her wrist. She froze, pulse fluttering and staggering - _the ribbons are meant as gifts for the ones we care about_ \- caught in the impact of this gesture that she almost couldn’t believe was happening. Lips parting in wonder, she raised her wrist to the light to better appreciate its magnificent colour – when she noticed the inscription upon its silky material.

A wish; a wish he'd written for her.

Her eyes found his. “What does it say?”

The corner of his mouth quirked and he cast his gaze towards the river.

She blinked. “You’re not going to tell me?”

When he made no move to reply, she exclaimed, “You’re _really_ not going to tell me!”

With an expression lingering somewhere between exasperation, amusement and absolute amazement, she stared at him until he finally looked back at her. They were so close; their noses almost touching, her shoulder was brushing against his, his hand pressing into the grass just beside hers. All she would have to do is lean slightly forward, and she would feel him against her, melt into the warmth she could feel radiating from him–

All these daring thoughts came to a halt as he gave a wolfish smirk. “If you learn how to read then I won’t have to tell you.”

She latched onto the playfulness rising between them, hoping to diminish the almost overwhelming desire of her heart. “And how long is that going to take? I want to know now!”

“All in good time.”

“All in good time?” She teasingly bumped his shoulder with hers. “You give me this beautiful gift and yet you won’t tell me what it says? I really don’t understand how your mind works.”

He was grinning, and it made her want to do very stupid things, if only it would keep that expression upon his face.

The moment lingered, their eyes remaining locked in an unwavering stare, and then he was suddenly taking her ribbon-tied wrist and a rush of affection came spilling from him through their bond,  leaving her momentarily dazed and wondering just how closely he’d been keeping his feelings locked away this whole time.

Or, perhaps not locked away, but _denied_.

“It is a selfish of me to think that perhaps, one day, when you look back on this night,” he held up her wrist within the space between them, “You will remember _this_ , and know the words that I gave you, I meant with every part of my dark soul.”

She frowned, disliking the solemn edge to his intent words. “Ben– “

“No.” Something intense bloomed in his eyes, and while his one hand was still holding onto her wrist, the other reached up to cup her face. “You don’t understand. You find beauty in this world, little bird… And all I do is seek its destruction.”

She was shaking her head. “That’s not true–“

“It is,” he said firmly. Torment and restraint was simmering against her senses as he cradled her ribbon-tied wrist against his chest. But she fanned her fingers over his heart, and a pulse of her affection for him flared from her, unbidden and uncontrolled, but in that moment she couldn’t care less. He was shaking his head, his forehead coming to rest against hers, her fondness met with so much conflict and pain that it made her physically ache.

“I am not worthy of this. Not any of this…”

“ _Ben,_ ” she whispered breathlessly. “You _are_.”

He met her eyes, and his were so unguarded, so open, that for the first time she truly felt as though she could see what he was feeling within his eyes, and not through their bond alone. He reached up to feather-lightly trail his fingertips along her jaw before tangling into her hair.

“You make me want impossible things, Rey.”

He was leaning in, his warm breath ghosting against her lips, “You make me _careless_. And you _change_ … _everything_.”

And then, he kissed her.

A firework of heat exploded in her chest, a jolt of desire crashing through her to collide with his, sending sparks of yearning and lust and euphoria scattering through her like falling stars. Her long lashes drifted shut as she melted into the kiss, losing herself in the bliss of his warm mouth. His lips were soft but he was kissing her hard, _fervently_ , his fingers gripping in her hair, her own hands somehow reaching up to tangle into his.

And then his tongue brushed against her lower lip, and a moan snagged in the back of her throat; heat unspooling from her core, intensifying with the searing satisfaction rolling off of him. She’d never felt like this before, like every part of her was burning and _begging_ to be touched. Somehow she ended up beneath him, her body leaning back against the grassy slope and he was pressed against her, his knees braced on either side of her, his tall form stretched over hers. His warm tongue swirled against hers, causing her to shudder with pleasure, and her only thought was that he tasted like apple pie.

As their lips momentarily parted, she drew a trembling, frenzied inhale, feeling his fingers weave through hers as he pinned one of her hands above her head. His mouth was tracing a line of fire down her throat and with an unrestrained moan falling from her lips her back arched, hips rolling against his. The resulting wave of pleasure that crashed forth from him was so intense she saw stars, certain she was about to black out. Her mind was still soaring when he pulled away, his entire body going ridged.

A twinge of panic shot down her spine, bringing her sharply back to earth. Had she done something wrong? But he was quick to place a shaking kiss to her forehead. “No. You definitely didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what is it?” she asked, tenderly caressing his cheek in the hope that he would look at her.

And he did.

His hood framed him against the starry sky, his raven hair hanging wildly around his face. But his eyes – his eyes were ablaze with something so dark, so heated, that her body instinctively reacted to it, causing a flare of pleasure to unfurl up her spine and draw a trembling gasp from her throat.

He was restraining himself – he was holding back with everything he had, and it was inciting her heartbeat, her arousal, her desire. It was daring her to lock her hands around his neck and draw him back down to her lips, to let her hands rove across his chest, to rock her hips against his–

“ _Rey_ ,” he growled, low and deep, dipping his head into the crook of her shoulder and sending gooseflesh spreading across her heated skin. “If we do not stop right this instant, I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”

Their breathing was loud, and she’d forgotten about the cold and the river and the lanterns and the people all around them. The grass was damp at her back, cool against her burning skin.

He rolled onto his side beside her, and looked intently into her eyes. “And I do not wish to ravage you in front of an audience.”

Despite the seriousness of his words and their rousing effect, a laugh bubbled up from her throat, and she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth in the hope to stem the laughter. She curled into him, feeling his arms wrap around her, and she knew that she would remember that night for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t think there will be another chapter for a little while, seeing as I have a ton of university work I need to do the next two weeks. So please, bear with me. I will not abandon this story. Thank you for reading, and if you have some time, please consider leaving some feedback!
> 
> A moodboard for this chapter can be found [here.](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/148972757991/he-met-her-eyes-and-his-were-so-unguarded-so)


	11. Magnetic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here I am, after a month of silence. I apologize for the long wait, and I am also so thankful for your patience and your continued encouragement. The response I received on the last chapter blew me away. I cannot thank you guys enough. And more than 200 kudos! I never imagined this story would get such incredible feedback. It's because of you that I continue to write this, I hope you know that. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> This fic is now rated mature. The beginning of this chapter includes some smuttiness. They don’t have sex yet, as I have something particular planned for that later on. This is the first time I've written a scene like this, and I worked very hard to get it right. It gave me sleepless nights and tons of stress and I still feel it could have been better, but I hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable...

* * *

# 11

## Magnetic

_Hold me now,_

_'Til the fear is leaving,_

_I am barely breathing._

_Crying out,_

_These tired wings are falling,_

_I need you to catch me_

Hold me now, Red

* * *

With every step towards the inn, Rey’s heart pounded harder and harder. Ben was walking at her side, and each time his arm brushed against hers a spark of electricity flickered through her pulse. Her stomach was in knots, her palms clammy. The whole world fell away; the beauty of the festival, the people around them, the din of the music – it all faded into the night, leaving only her heartbeat and _him_.

The inn was almost empty now; only a handful of patrons were still sitting at the bar. Rey paused, and his hand came to rest at the small of her back, a coal of fire that remained all the way up the stairs. Only when they reached their room did he let go to insert the key and open the door.

She swallowed, stepping past him into their chamber.

The innkeeper had not been exaggerating. The room was indeed small and cramped. The single, round window let in the glow of the lights outside, softly lighting the room to display a double-bed pressed into the corner and a tiny dresser leaning against the opposite wall. To their left was a narrow doorway, probably leading to a bathroom.

Rooted to the spot, Rey drew a long inhale through her nose, her arms folding tightly across her chest. Behind her, the door clicked shut and her breath stilled inside her throat.

They were alone.

Completely alone.

Which was such a bizarre thing to think, because they've been alone for every day of the past week – and _now_ she was noticing?

Where had her confidence fled to? The confidence that had made her react to him in ways she now was finding increasingly embaressing. Somewhere, between the riverbank and the inn, it seemed to have abandoned her…

The floor creaked as he neared, and heat crept up her spine as his chest pressed against her back. Her mouth went dry, her heart staggering.

He swept her hair back from her neck and nuzzled his nose in the crook of her shoulder, his breath ghosting across her skin. With warm lips, he pressed slow kisses all along the slope of her neck, sending a molten thrill shuddering down her spine. Eyes fluttering shut, she tilted her head, allowing him better access and he rewarded her by swirling his hot tongue against the tender spot just below her jaw, drawing a soft gasp from her throat. Heat was building between her legs, stronger and more demanding than any arousal she'd ever experienced before.

And then, his lips grazed the shell of her ear and she went weak in his arms, melting back against his chest with a yielding moan.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling down her spine. Settling his hands settled on her hips, he turned her around to face him. A jolt of excitement made her heart leap; his eyes were like smouldering embers, alight with the desire searing her senses. Wetting her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, she reached up and gently drew back his hood, allowing the heavy material to pool around his shoulders. Fingertips drifting down, she feather-lightly trailed them across his chest.

His heart leapt against her palms; a pulse of unguarded affection resonating through her.

It robbed her of breath; her eyes squeezing shut. Her head was swimming with the intensity of the emotions filling them both. It was impossible to think straight, and yet a stab of nerves managed to pierce through the haze. Fear, uncertainty, doubts, they cut like shards of ice–

But then, with the tip of his index finger, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to look up at him. And everything else fell out of focus until it was only him and the intensity of his gaze and the harshness of his breathing and the inviting curve of his mouth.

He leaned in, and claimed her lips.

In a heartbeat, she melted into the kiss. It was soft and tender, a gentle rhythm in which she could appreciate the alluring fullness of his lips and the way his fingers were digging desperately into her hips. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair.

Oh, but she was dying for more. On a daring impulse, she brushed her tongue against his plump, lower lip, longing to taste him. She felt the moan at the back of his throat rather than heard it, and he returned her dare by coaxing her lips wider and slipping his tongue into her mouth to dance with hers. Hot desire flared from their kiss, inflaming their movement with fervour. Her fingers tightened into his hair, his arms curved around her waist, her body arched into his.

With a snagged breath, he broke away, but before she could blink he leaned down and grabbed her thighs, picking her up in a single swift motion. A soft squeak escaped from her lips and her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her towards the bed. He laid her down, her loose hair spilling like ink across the sheets.

Lying beneath him like this, she felt small. Open, vulnerable. She could feel it turning him on; the sight of her pale throat, of her parted lips, of her heaving chest. There was something predatory in the essence of him, and yet he traced gloved fingertips along the swoop of her jaw so tenderly, so lovingly, almost like he feared she might break. The pad of his thumb brushed across her lower lip, and she exhaled, lips parted and wanting.

His reaction bloomed within her; a firework of need so strong it made her heart stop.

With a soft hiss between bared teeth, he withdrew, sitting back on his knees to pin her in his unwavering gaze. His own chest was heaving, his pulse jumping in the hollow of his throat.

Then he was tugging off his clothing, until he was only in his long-sleeved shirt. It left his hair in disarray, raven strands falling wildly across his face. A pulse of desire throbbed between her legs, causing her fingers to clasp into the bedding as she bit her lower lip.

By the stars, did he have any idea how sexy he was?

He leaned forward, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of her, and all at once her vulnerability bubbled back to the surface. Could she really do this? _Should_ she do this? There had never been anyone before him. She was completely inexperienced. What if this was all just a huge mistake? One she'll be regretting once morning comes?

“Rey?”

She stared up at him, trying to find her voice.  

“You're afraid,” he murmured, gazing into her eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“...Of me?”

Her heart clenched. The openness in the husky lilt of his tone made her want to throw her arms around him right then and there. It made her want to kiss him like she’d never get another chance. And yet her body was frozen, unwilling to move.

 _Not in the way you're thinking_ , she said through their connection.

He caressed her cheek, his eyes flickering between hers. She waited, simultaneously dreading and hoping for the moment he figured it out.

“You've never...” He let out a little breath, a brief frown twitching between his brows. “You've never been with anyone before.”

A mixture of disbelief and wonder rose up from him and her eyes squeezed shut. She was trembling now, excitement mingled with fear. But she did not know what she feared most: the intimacy itself or having him be her first. This man, who had the power to tear her soul to shreds. Or, perhaps she was afraid of how badly she wanted this, how badly she wanted _him._ She was afraid of the emotions he evoked in her; afraid that when this was all over, he'd cast her aside–

His lips brushed against hers, warm and sweet.

Her eyes flew open, only to flutter shut again when he deepened the kiss. It was different from the heated and fiery one on the riverbank – it was languid and tender, and made her burn in an entirely different way. Slow, but blindingly hot.

Breaking the kiss with a soft breath, he lied down beside her and leaned his forehead against her temple. Twining their fingers together, he laid their joined hands upon her ribs, his thumb stroking soothing circles across her hand. “Rey. I want you. All of you. But I'm not going to do anything you're not ready for.”

A thrill cascaded through her, chasing away some of the anxiety. “I want to… I just… This is all a little fast and… I don’t know.” She swallowed. “I guess this means you’ve… been with someone?”

His thumb stilled. “It was a long time ago. And insignificant.”

Something cold stirred through her chest, wondering how he could say that about an act that should be meaningful and intimate and memorable. Or was she foolish for thinking so? After all, what did she know of such things?

The icy feeling tightened inside of her, but then he gently clasped her chin and turned her face towards his, meeting her eyes. “This is different. It is… new for me too. I've never been with anyone who is Force sensitive. And you already know our bond is unique.”

And then she felt it. His own fears, lurking beneath the surface. She’d been so preoccupied with her own overwhelming feelings that she hadn’t noticed, but she did now, feeling the anxiety fueling his erratic heartbeat.

“Let's take it slow,” he whispered, placing a kiss in her hair, “And see where it leads us.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Alright.”

He brushed his nose against hers before kissing her, long and slow and deep until all of her fears faded away. Stars, she could lose herself in his lips, in his hand fanning across her stomach, in the warmth of his body and the feel of his skin beneath her fingers as she grasped his neck. Longing for more friction, she hooked her leg over his thigh and turned on her side, arching into him. A stirring of his rising pleasure coursed through her, and without breaking the kiss, he rolled them over until he was on top of her. She moaned at the sensation of his arousal pressing against the sensitive nub between her legs and before long she was eagerly rocking her hips against his.

In a tangle of limbs, he helped her slip off her coat, leaving her in her tunic. She trailed her hands over his chest, longing to feel his skin against hers and yet she didn't have the courage to undress him.

But he smiled against her lips and withdrew to remove his gloves and tug his shirt over his head, leaving him bare from the waist up.

Rey stilled.

It almost hurt to look at him.

From the constellation of freckles across his chest, to the toned contours of muscles beneath taut, pale skin, the ripple of ribs, the narrow dip of his waist, the downy hairs trailing down from his navel.

He was devastatingly beautiful.

And oh how she longed to touch him, and yet her fingers remained clutched against heart, for despite every part of her aching for him, she could barely breathe being faced with how, by her own hands, she had marked him. And he was no less beautiful for it, perhaps even more starkly so, but witnessing the burned crescent across his shoulder, the bandage yet covering the wound at his side, the scar across his face…

Her throat grew thick with emotion as her fingers rose on their own to trace across the length of the slash reaching from between his brows to the slant of his jaw.

_I did this…_

He caught her hand, and placed a kiss in her palm. “I deserved it.”

She flinched. “How can you say that?”

“It’s the truth.”

She turned her face away, heartbeat constricting. But he caught her chin, making her look back up at him.

“You were defending yourself,” he said.

“You will carry it for the rest of your life.”

“Then I will carry it as a reminder to never fall that low again.” He pressed the flat of her palm against his heart, and whispered, “Touch me.”

A potent mixture of hurt and embarrassment rolled through her. But she concentrated on the flutter of his heart against her hand, and allowed herself to feel the pull between them. The pull she’d first felt in the hallway on Starkiller.

It was magnetic, and overwhelming, and she was completely at its mercy.

She trailed the flat of her palms down the hard planes of his stomach. He was warm, so warm, and it stoked the fiery need in her veins. Her hands roved over him; slipping across his toned arms, tracing his collarbones and shoulders, fluttering over ribs that made him flinch ever so slightly.

Her eyes grew wide, lighting up with mirth. “Ticklish, Mister Solo?”

He gave a soft grunt. “Of course not.”

Corners of her lips quirking up, she raked her fingertips gently down his ribs, yet it drew a hiss from between his bared teeth as he recoiled.  

Rey giggled, but then he caught her hands and pinned them at her sides, looking at her in a way that made her feel like she might catch fire.

“I think it’s my turn now,” he murmured, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her core.

She stilled, and he slipped his hands beneath her tunic and splayed them across her hips. Finally feeling his warm hands against her skin evoked a low moan from her throat. A shallow inhale quivered through her parted lips as he inched his strong hands up her sides before feathering his fingertips across her ribs in a return of her torture. She giggled, enjoying the quirk of his lips as he ran his hands back down to graze his fingertips across her hipbones.

Grasping the hem of her shirt, he flicked his eyes up at her in a silent question.

She swallowed thickly. Her heart thrummed, nervous and excited and scared all at once. Closing her eyes, she nodded.

He slipped the thin garment over her head.

The air was cool and sent shivers racing across her skin as she covered her arms across her chest. She was still wearing her breast-band, but despite the vulnerability at being exposed before him – and even the embarrassment over her simple, frayed underwear – it was the scar across her lower ribs that made her want to disappear into the mattress. It was such a jagged, ugly thing; a testament to that horrible night her friend had died.

And for a heart-stopping moment, she waited for even the slightest hint of revulsion from him – but it never came. He leaned in, raven locks tickling her skin, and placed kisses all along her forearms.

“Let me see you,” he murmured.

Her breathing came quick.

Her heart pounded.

But he waited.

He waited, and he nuzzled his nose into her neck and stroked his thumb along her jaw and she did not know if he was aware of it, but his whole being radiated affection. Affection and light and _want_. She relaxed in his arms, and reached behind her to untie the string of her breast-band.

She slipped it off, tossing it aside.

He slid warm hands to her wrists and pinned them above her head, causing her chest to arch and her perky breasts to rise into the cool air.

His eyes roved over her body and she felt his hunger at the sight of her; felt his desire throb between his legs.

Looking into her eyes, a soft laugh tumbled from his lips.  “How have I been so blind… when you’re the most beautiful thing in this entire galaxy?”

Butterflies rushed through her belly, inciting her need. Then he lowered his head, hair tickling her skin as he licked a line of fire across her collarbone. His breath was warm and so was his hands as he cupped her breasts. She gasped and shuddered, and he took a nipple in his mouth to swirl his hot tongue over the sensitive bud.

A pleading cry fell through her lips at the tugging of pleasure down between her legs. “Ben,” she moaned. She felt his satisfaction at her pleasure as he moved over to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. He licked and nipped and kissed her breasts and then all along her scar, all with such attentive tenderness that before long her entire body was tingling, her hips squirming, her hands tangling into his messy hair. A moan caught in the back of her throat and she tipped her head back, and he kissed along her pulse throbbing beneath her pale skin.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a passionate kiss, pressing her breasts against his chest and rolling her hips against his. Feeling his skin against hers was driving her mad with need, and her hands could no longer stay still. She was dying for some exploring of her own.

She trailed her hands down his back, feeling his muscles flex and ripple beneath her touch. He laid down beside her and her exploring continued, as did his. Emboldened as he undid her trousers, she inched her hands down to his waistband, and stroked her hand across his hard length.

She swallowed his resulting moan, and it made her grin, and she felt both surprise and satisfaction flare from him. She tried to undo his pants without breaking the kiss but she couldn’t get them open without looking down at what she was doing. A soft laugh fell between them as he reached down and undid his trousers himself. Grabbing her wrist, he guided her hand inside. Her fingers brushed against his cock; he was hard and ready, and the moment her fingers curled around him she felt an untamed flicker of pleasure burn her senses.

“Rey,” he growled into her neck.  

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth – the tiniest bit of her power in her hands – and her heart danced in the unexpected exhilaration it sparked in her veins. With his hand guiding hers, she began stroking him, up and down. Before long, he withdrew to let her discover him on her own. Every part of her was honed in on him as she paid attention to every little flicker of response she gained through their connection. Wrapping her hand firmly around him she gyrated her touch; firm and languid, hard and slow. His fingers were digging into her hip, his forehead pressed into the crook of her shoulder, his panting breaths spilling over her skin. It was the tiniest bit intoxicating, seeing him like this, so responsive to her every touch–

He grasped her wrist, stopping her movements.

“Wait,” he breathed against his neck.

And then a breathless chuckle rumbled through his chest, sending shivers racing up her spine. “I should have known you’d be a fast learner.”

She bit her lip through her smile and caught his gaze. “I find I like pleasing you.”

“And I you,” he whispered, and he dipped his fingers below the waistband of her pants. His fingertips fanned over her mound, brushing through the soft curls to graze across the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex. An inhale shuddered through her nose. Locking his gaze with hers, he rubbed his fingers against her, slow and deliberate and gentle. Then he slid them lower, curling into her folds, and a deep groan escaped his throat at the same moment a gasp was drawn from hers.  She was hot and slick, and her hips rose ever so slightly to meet his touch.

“Fuck,” he growled, and his utter ecstasy at finding her so aroused only further inflamed her need. He delved his fingers deep, rubbing and stroking and feeding the escalating coil of hunger building in her lower belly.

“Ben,” she moaned, burying her face against his chest. “Please.”

She was a quivering mess when she reached for his cock again, stroking him with the same rhythm he was pumping into her. Her hips were rising and falling with his rhythm now, bucking and grinding down on his fingers, chasing the building heat of pleasure whilst she murmured his name over and over and mewled and whimpered, making sounds she’d never heard herself making before.

Her movements became erratic, sloppy, all she could think of his fingers and how good it was making her feel. His breaths were coming hard, panting into her neck, and before she knew it a coil of heat was unfurling between her legs, sending ripples of pleasure shooting up her spine, making her body arch against him.

She cried out, pressing her forehead somewhere against his chest, and then it was happening all at once, a wave of pleasure rising up to crash through them both and send them over the edge. His breath hitched and she felt the growl reverberating from deep within his chest as he came. And all she could think was that he was so damn beautiful; the way his eyes were blazing, the wild tangles of his hair, the way every muscle was strained taut beneath moon-pale skin. Their gazes locked as a strangled moan spilled from his lips, manifesting into a breathless _Rey_ before he crushed his lips against hers and made her see stars.

For several long moments she was soaring, quivering against him with snagged breaths. He was panting, his entire body trembling.

He collapsed onto his back beside her. Her stomach and her forearm was covered in his warm, sticky release and suddenly she was shaking with euphoric laughter.

His gaze snapped to hers, mirth blooming in tender umber eyes. “Not what you were expecting?”

She slowly shook her head, smiling. “No. It was better. Better than anything I’d ever imagined.”

He rolled over to press his lips against hers in a sweet kiss. “And it only gets better from here.”

Then he stood up, and buttoned his trousers before disappearing through the narrow doorway beside the dresser. Her limbs felt heavy and yet light, calling her to slumber, but after a moment he came back out, carrying a washcloth. Sitting down beside her, he wiped it across her stomach and her arm, the cloth cool against her heated skin.

It was such a simple gesture.

And yet the very fact that he could show her such tenderness… It made her heart ache and swell with feelings she’d never experienced before.

When they were both clean, he laid down beside her and wrapped her in his arms, pressing his forehead against hers. Her palms came to rest against his chest, the silk of the ribbon brushing against his ribs as his heart thudded beneath her fingertips.

* * *

Kylo Ren lay awake beside her, watching the first, faint light spill through the hazy window. She was still sleeping, her head resting upon his chest, his fingers trailing through her silky hair.

He’d barely slept a wink. He’d listened to her feathered breathing, felt her peaceful heartbeat against his ribs. And all the while a darkness pressed at the edge of his mind; a darkness that threatened to make him regret all of it and consume him in a choking panic.

He’d never cared about anyone other than himself.

He hadn’t thought he was still capable of caring for anyone else.

And then, he’d kissed her, and his whole world shattered.

How was there any going back now? How could anything ever be the same when he’d come to know the taste of her lips, the softness of her skin? When he’d found that beneath her fire, she was shy and scared and yet she’d trusted him so implicitly like she’d done from the very beginning. Stars, it only made him want her more. He wanted to know every inch of her, to learn exactly how to worship her.  

Last night… Being with her… experiencing her feelings like they belonged to him… The joy, the yearning, the vulnerability and the need for him, trusting him not to hurt her, of wanting him to be her first because she’d never felt this way about anyone…

It had driven him mad with desire and yearning and the incredible sensation of being completely at her mercy and just not giving a damn. Like she could do with his heart whatever she wished and it would be more than he could ever hope for.

And, above all, the way she’d called his name... never Kylo Ren, but _Ben_ , only ever Ben, and how, for the first time, it hadn’t torn at his soul but made him feel _alive_.

It was terrifying.

All of it.

The darkness pressed and wrapped around his heart in an icy hold, mocking him with regrets and doubts. What was he thinking? He couldn’t do this. How could he let her trust him, depend on him, when he could not even trust himself?

He could never be the man she deserved.

He was a monster, and, perhaps even worse, a coward.

For deep down, he couldn’t bear the thought that someday her eyes would fill with that same fear, that disbelief that he’d betrayed her after all – that same look that had flashed in his father’s eyes when the lightsaber pierced his heart– 

Rey stirred in her sleep, a soft moan escaping her lips as her hand brushed across his chest. For a fleeting moment the ice was banished, and a flare of heat and fondness beckoned him to let everything go, to let it go and follow her wherever she led him.

But it could never be that simple.

The darkness swelled, obliterating her light, and brought forth the words that had been haunting him all this time.

_If you fail me, Kylo Ren, there will be nowhere in the galaxy you will ever be safe from my wrath._

The memory robbed him of breath as the panic drove him out of bed. He stood at the bedside with his back towards her, fists at his sides, heart pounding against his ribs.

Moments slipped by before he turned to look down at her. She had curled into herself, one hand tucked beneath her chin, the other reaching across the spot where he’d lain beside her.

The ribbon gleamed emerald in the hazy light falling across the bed.

He did not know when the words he’d inscribed on its silk had become real. If it was from the very first moment in the hallway on Starkiller, or every moment after.

Quietly, he dressed, and slipped out the door.

* * *

Soft tendrils of mist had risen from the river during the night to cloak the town in a soft embrace. The streets were a stark contrast to the night before – he was a solitary figure walking past empty market stalls and quiet homes, and his footsteps echoed through the silence as he made his way towards the trader’s establishment.

When he arrived he found the door was already open. Frowning, he stepped inside and glanced at his surroundings. The workshop was spacious and neat, with gleaming machinery, clean table tops and tall shelves stacked with tidy, labeled boxes.

There was no one behind the counter but Kylo Ren sensed someone in the back room. With slow strides, he moved past the counter and peered through the doorway.

Ah. So the mess was in the back – dust and parts and broken droids and a half-finished project that looked like someone intended to make a dragon out of scrap metal. At the center of the chaos stood the Cathar, his back turned to the doorway. His mane was no longer tied in ribbons but pulled back into a simple knot and he was wearing a dirty apron over a plain tunic.

Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, Kylo Ren recalled the name on the sign outside. “Master J’skar, I presume?”

Without turning to look back at him, the Cathar chuckled deeply. “I had a feeling you’d show up early.”  He was stooped over a pile of scrap, picking up bits and pieces, inspecting them, and tossing some into a box while others went into a pile in the corner. “And it’s just J’skar, sonny.”

He arched a brow. “I was under the impression you wouldn't be open until this afternoon.”

“And yet, here you are,” J’skar said as he faced him, his feline features tugged into a grin displaying his fangs.

He snorted. “Do you have the transpacitor?”

“Straight to business, eh? And where is that bonnie lass of yours?”

His forehead twisted into a scowl. “Asleep.”

“Ah, nothing more beautiful than a sated woman.”

The heat creeping across his face was surely not a blush. He set his jaw, fixing the trader with a searing gaze. “Do you have the part I need or not?”

“Of course, sonny. Already cleaned it up for you. You’re in luck - it's in perfect condition.” Wiping his paws on his apron, J’skar gestured to the transpacitor lying on a dusty countertop.  

“Good,” Kylo Ren said with a firm nod. “There is something else, however. Do you happen to know some of the stall owners from last night? There are... certain wares I would like to acquire. And I am in need of two mounts.”

Chuckling, J’skar crossed his arms over his wide chest. “And how do you plan on trading for all of this?”

“Would a working hovercraft suffice? I believe there is also a dysfunctional exploration droid in the back.”

Raising bushy eyebrows, J’skar tilted his head. “A hovercraft, hm? Neverant hasn't had a working hovercraft in years… Mind if I take a look at it?”

“Certainly. It is beyond the hills across the river.”

“Good, then we can talk while we walk. Come, tell me of the other goods you require.”

They stepped back into the street, heading in the direction of the bridge.

“There was a man selling quarterstaves last night,” Kylo Ren said. “I would like to acquire one. A specific one, if it hasn't been sold already.”

“Hm. A man who carries two lightsabers does not seem likely to be in need of a quarterstaff, if you ask me.”

The teasing lilt of that gravelly tone was unmistakable. Kylo Ren scowled, but another grin was quick to spread across J’skar’s features. “But if it’s so important that you’re willing to trade a working hovercraft for it… I’ll go wake up ol' Moondock once we get back.”

They walked in silence, until they neared the archway leading out of town.

“You know, son. I never thought you'd come back here,” J’skar said. “Not after what happened all of those years ago. And especially not with a young woman at your side.”

Kylo Ren came to a halt, his boots scuffing upon the ground. Those keen, golden eyes were looking back at him in the same calculating way as last night.

Why hadn’t he realized it before?

“You know who I am.”

The trader quirked a grin. “Of course. Your energy is unlike any other I've ever encountered.”

A severe frown twisted across his brow. “But you are not Force-sensitive.”

J’skar gave a dismissive wave of his paw. “Ah, no, but my wife was. Being married to a Force-sensitive teaches you a couple of things, let me tell you, sonny.”

“She _was_?” Kylo Ren asked.

“She died many years ago, a couple of moons after the birth of our youngest daughter.”

“I... am sorry to hear that,” he found himself saying.

J’skar nodded, and they began walking again. “It's been a long time since I've spoken about her.”

“Did she not wish to train her abilities?”

“Ah, she did, she did. At least… until I asked her to marry me.”

“So she gave it up for a family,” Kylo Ren said, unable to keep the note of derision from creeping into his tone. “The Cathar make excellent Force warriors. She could have been powerful.”

“Oh, certainly,” the trader replied, catching his gaze. “But is power the only thing that matters?”

Kylo Ren's gaze veered away as he thought of a girl marveling at the rain because it was the first rainstorm she’d ever seen. He thought of a warm hand holding his, of slender arms that curved around him when he no longer had the strength to stand on his own. He thought of her always coming towards him, even when the whole world would have turned away.

He knew the answer he should give.

The answer he would have given if someone had asked him this same question scarcely two weeks ago.

And yet…

They were crossing the bridge when the Cathar spoke again. “I suppose you are familiar with the story of where the Force originated from?”

He grunted. “Of course. But I suspect you’re going to tell me anyway.”

J’skar gave a deep, rumbling chuckle. “It is said that, once, at the beginning of time, there was a beautiful, flowering tree. Beneath its far-reaching branches, two children were playing – a boy and a girl. They were the best of friends, and would meet at the tree every day. Then, one day, the boy realised something. He noticed that whenever he was near the tree, he gained new abilities… strange things he hadn’t been able to do before. He could move things with his mind, could sense the presence of his friend, feel the world around him like a living tapestry…”

They were at the top of the hill now, and J’skar paused beneath the first trees. “And so the story goes, that the boy began thinking of reasons that the girl should no longer accompany him to the tree. He wanted to go there alone, so he could practice these new abilities without her knowing about it. But then, the girl followed the boy as he snuck off on his own. When he discovered her, he became angry, and with his new powers, he struck her down.”

J’skar paused, gazing down at the little, sleeping town. “The boy thought the girl to be dead, and he left. But she wasn’t dead. She’d known of the tree’s powers all along, but too late did she realize what those powers had done to her friend. From that day on, there was forever a rift between the two, and so… the light and dark sides were born.”

“Like I said, I’ve heard the story,” Kylo Ren said gruffly, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “But that is all it is – a story.”

“Perhaps,” the Cathar shrugged. “Who are we to discredit it?”

Kylo Ren's eyes narrowed as his lips tugged into a sneer. “What is your point, old man? You know who I am and yet you allow me walk amongst your fellow townsfolk. You insist we attend your festival. You tell me about your wife. You tell me this fanciful story. What is it that you’re getting at?”

Those golden eyes became pensive, almost somber. “I watched you that day when your soldiers attacked the villagers in the fields. When you arrived, every single Stormtrooper stopped. Like one man, they all stopped. And I might not be Force-sensitive, but I could feel it – the fear that snapped through them. Fear like that? It doesn’t just come from nowhere – it’s _ingrained_. And then I watch you last night – I watch the way that lass looks at you and I wonder which you will choose. To be feared, or to be loved?”

J’skar shook his head. “I can see the confusion in your eyes, son. I don’t blame you for wondering why I would tell you all this. I suppose the only answer I can give you is it's what my wife would have done. She always went out of her way to help everyone who crossed her path. You asked if she didn’t want to train her Force abilities… But the Force can be used for so much more than simply defeating one’s enemies.”

He reached out and laid a heavy, golden paw upon Kylo Ren’s shoulder. “Not many are privileged enough to receive a second chance in this life, Kylo Ren. Do not waste it.”

* * *

When she woke up, the first thing she saw was the ribbon around her wrist. A smile tugged at her lips and the memories of the previous evening came rushing back, bringing with it a coil of pleasure that unfurled through her belly. She closed her eyes, snuggling back into the blankets – only to have her eyes fly open when she realized there was no comforting warmth at her back.

She turned around.

He was gone.

But the spot beside her was not empty.

Atop the covers lay a quarterstaff – the same quarterstaff she'd admired the night before – the one that had reminded her of her quarterstaff back home.

She blinked, stunned.

Breathlessly, her lips parted and she reached out. Her fingers grasped the lacquered wood as she gazed down at it in wonder, her heart racing with a rush of emotions.

 _Ben_.

A moment, and then his presence engulfed her mind as though he was embracing her in his arms. **_Good morning, little bird_**.

Her heart skipped a beat.

_Where are you?_

**_Finishing up my business with the trader… Do you like your gift?_ **

_I don’t have any words._

A slow smile curved across her mouth.

_Perhaps I can show my appreciation when you get back?_

**_I'll be right there._ **

She could practically hear the smirk in his tone. Grinning, she fell back against the pillows, biting her lip through her smile.

* * *

“Let me get this straight...” Rey said, staring down at Ben where he was lying beside her on the bed. “You traded the hovercraft for the transpacitor, the quarterstaff and two mounts. Mounts we'll be sending _back_ once we arrive at the TIE fighter.”

“That’s correct.”

She shook her head. “So basically you traded a working hovercraft for a quarterstaff and a transpacitor, seeing as we won’t be keeping the mounts anyway.”

“Mhm,” he purred into her neck, his fingers trailing through her hair.

She propped herself onto her hand, pinning him with an intent look. “But… why? Why would you go through all this extra trouble, when for all this time, all you’ve wanted to do was get the ship fixed as soon as possible?”

He met her eyes, and for a long moment he remained motionless, before he slowly reached out to caress her cheek.

“Because the quarterstaff is a good weapon that will serve you well. You might not be able to go back to Jakku any time soon, but you’d need something to defend yourself with in the meantime.”

She searched his solemn eyes, wondering how he always managed to conceal his kindnesses within practicality. Somehow, it only made him so much more endearing. Fondness bloomed inside her chest as a warm smile spread across her lips, and then she was leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

With his strong arms curving around her, he pulled her close against him, his hands warm against her back. She breathed in his scent, wishing they could stay in that tiny room – and that little sliver of a moment – forever.

* * *

A little while later, after they’d shared a simple, late breakfast, Rey gathered their plates and stacked them onto the tray she’d left on the dresser. Turning to face him, she entwined her fingers in front of her. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her, and with a soft sigh she went to sit down beside him.

“There is something I want to ask,” she said.

“Go on.”

“Just… don’t bite my head off?”

The faintest smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as he swept a lock of hair from her forehead. “I can’t make any promises.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully before releasing another sigh. “I... still don’t understand why you were so upset about the song. I never wanted to upset you. In fact, I’d been trying to help and then I somehow made things worse. And it’s been bothering me ever since.”

For a moment he held her gaze in that intense way of his, before he hummed beneath his breath, absently twirling a strand of her hair around his fingertip. “From that first night… I’d had this… dream. I am walking through an orchard, towards a beautiful tree at the end. Sunlight is filtering through the branches. I feel at peace. And the song, the melody you were humming… It is the very core of everything around me.”

He laid his fingers against her cheek. “I thought it was you deliberately placing it in my head. That it was just... a trick. A ploy you were using to turn me to the light.”

“I'm amazed that you think so highly of my abilities," she said. "But why would you think that?”

A breathless laugh huffed between his lips. “Because everything about that dream makes me think of _you_.”

Warmth spilled through her, and he lightly twined his fingers through hers, looking down to where he rested their joined hands on his thigh. “When I was young, my parents used to read me bedtime stories. My mother would do the reading, and my… father would act out scenes. Jedi knights vanquishing their enemies, a brave space explorer finding a beautiful treasure. Silly things.”

Rey felt the somberness seeping into him, and it made her heart thrum as she listened raptly.  

“And then... I began getting nightmares. Certainly any child has nightmares at some point in their childhood, but mine were…”

He shook his head, letting out a huff of breath through his nose. “They got so bad that I went without sleep for days on end. Eventually I would simply pass out from exhaustion. My parents dealt with it in their separate ways, like they did with everything else. Some nights my mother would let me sleep beside her, and on others my father would take me onto the Falcon to let me sleep there.”

A smile ghosted across his lips. “Those times, when we would go flying simply for the sake of it... those were the only times I was ever happy.”

Rey swallowed, pressing her lips slightly as she drew a steadying breath through her nose. That he was sharing this with her… It made her realize how far they’ve come in a very short while. And her heart could not help but break for the young Ben Solo; a young boy caught in a web of fear.

He gave her hand a squeeze, meeting her eyes. “You said you've known the song for as long as you could remember. You cannot recall who taught it to you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve always had the feeling that it has something to do with my mother... but I cannot be certain.”

“Hm. And you do not remember anything about your parents?”

“No,” she sighed softly. “I do not know how old I was when I came to Jakku. I can remember some of that day, but what came before it... it's all a blur. Nothing discernible. Believe me, for years I’ve tried to remember something. Anything. But nothing has ever come to me. Not even a face.”

He remained thoughtfully quiet and the gloominess that fell across his features made her playfully bump her shoulder against his.

“Stop brooding,” she said.

“Brooding? I do not brood.”

“It is literally what you do all day long.”

Before she could even blink he pinned her into the mattress beneath him, drawing a soft squeak of surprise from her throat, her eyes going wide. But she quickly sobered as he lowered his head beside her, his lips brushing the shell of her ear in a whisper. “I have something else I'd like to do all day long.”

Her eyes were fluttering shut when his fingers assaulted her sides in a surprise tickle attack. She let out a squeal of laughter, writhing beneath him as she tried to avoid his hands. “Ben! Stop it!”

Laughter, rumbling and deep, spilled out of him. The sound made her weak, sending butterflies rushing through her belly to the very tips of her toes. It made her still beneath his hands, and he stopped, looking straight into her eyes. “We should get ready to leave, or else I might be tempted to lock that door and throw away the key.”

A breathless laugh fell from her lips, warmth creeping up her spine as he echoed the same wish she’d had earlier. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me… But I guess you’re right. And I want to shower before we go.”

Leaning in, he brushed his lips along her neck. “I might join you.”

Her body begged to betray her, but she playfully shoved him away. “Another day, Mister Solo.”

* * *

They slept beneath the stars that night. The trader had told Kylo to watch the mounts – carrion spats, the locals called them. If they seemed restless, cold weather was rapidly approaching. But the bird-like creatures only seemed as tired as he felt, and so he and Rey made a fire beneath a slight outcropping of rock, and lay side by side, staring up at the sky.

They spoke of everything aside from the thing that lay at the bottom of his ribs. He knew she sensed it. There was a strained edge to her, as though she was forcing herself to think of anything else other than the very thing that bothered them both.  

And so they gazed at the stars, tracing their fingers across the vast dome. She fell asleep some time after but he still lay staring up into the night, listening to the dying crackle of the fire and fought the fatigue that dragged at his bones.

Tomorrow they would be back at the TIE fighter.

Tomorrow he'd need to decide what to do.

And despite the words of the trader that morning, he was at a loss. The story of the Force’s origins… The tree and the girl and the boy… Snoke’s warning lingering like a snake in the darkness. All of it served to make his head spin.

He wanted her.

By all the stars in this galaxy, he _wanted_ her, more than he’d ever wanted anything else. Yet he simply couldn’t see how that would ever become possible. How could there be a future for them, after everything he’s done? And though he could sense much through their bond, there was still a lot he did not know, or understand.

They had not spoken of feelings. They had not spoken of anything _more_.

Once the TIE fighter was fixed… He would need to ask her to give him the last piece of the map. That alone twisted his stomach into knots. How was he meant to find a way ahead without undoing this one thing in his entire life that had ever made him feel like he was worth more than the darkness of the Force flowing through him?

And then, once he had the map... What in the blazing hells was he supposed to do then?

Walk up to his uncle and apologize for killing Han Solo?

He wanted to laugh.

There was not enough time or compassion in this galaxy for him to repent for the murder of his father.

The blood staining his hands would never wash off.

And his uncle...

All those years ago, at the Jedi Temple... The memory of that day was still like a blur. One that felt dizzyingly hot and made his head swim whenever he thought of it. The only clear memory he had was of running through the hallways searching for someone. His heart had pounded in his ears, his boots had thudded down the hallways, and he’d been searching, desperately – everywhere.

He knew there had been others, others that Snoke had sent to help him accomplish the task of exterminating the Jedi. And yet, when he thought back, he could never remember striking anyone down. He could not recall killing those who had called him brother-in-arms.

But one thing he did know.

Luke Skywalker could have stopped him. He could have killed him.

But, for some reason, he had not.

And that's why he'd always intended to get to Skywalker before Hux did. He'd always intended to find the map before Hux got his filthy paws on it.

Because he needed to ask his uncle _why_.

Why he hadn't killed him, and what exactly had happened that day.

And, maybe then, he'd remember who he'd been searching for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The creatures, Carrion Spat, are canon. And the story the trader tells Kylo is also based on canon, but I changed it and its implications around to suit my fanfiction. As always, this fanfiction is provided as is. Don’t expect things to work out as they do in canon. 
> 
> If you’re a fan of dark fanfictions, or rey/kylo/hux as a pairing, please read [May The Empire Prosper](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7883107/chapters/18005227) by ReadonRose and give her some support (and do note her warning tags)!
> 
> A moodboard for this chapter can be found [here.](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/161650710166/ladylionhartxx-a-moodboard-illustrating-chapter)


	12. Snowfall

* * *

# 12

## Snowfall

_So say the word and I'll be running back to find you_

_A thousand armies won't stop me I'll break through_

_I'll soar the endless skies for only one sight_

_Of your starlight_

Starlight, Starset

* * *

The sky was an endless, darkening grey as they halted their mounts atop the rocky ridge.

And then, there it was.

The TIE fighter, the quarry, the warehouse, the sleek, flat-roofed buildings.

Rey’s chest constricted, her hands clenching into the reins.

A sense of homecoming washed through her – which was wonderful, strange and terrifying all at once, for her home had only ever been a solitary roof over her head. But this place was not hers alone.

It was _theirs_.

And no matter what the future held, it would always be theirs.

The frigid wind came racing across the swaying fields to pluck at their hair and slice through their clothing. Beneath her, the carrion spat tripled nervously. Their mounts had been restless and chirping ever since they left their campsite early that morning. Ben mentioned the trader had said the birds’ restlessness meant a blizzard was approaching.

At least the clothing she now wore kept out the worst of the cold. Before they’d left the village, the trader’s eldest daughter, Maya, had insisted on giving her some new clothes. At first Rey hadn’t wanted to accept the generous offer – they’d had very little to trade at that point – but now she was glad Maya had persuaded her. The practical, long-sleeved tunic, dark-grey trousers and leather boots was indeed far better suited to the climate than her frayed desert-garb had ever been.

She’d kept the coat Ben had given her, and clasped its lapels beneath her chin now as she sent him a sidelong glance.

They’d barely spoken a word since waking up.

Stars, he’d barely even looked in her direction.

And their bond was… quiet. There was a tightness about him, a frailness, like a storm contained beneath cracked glass.

But she couldn’t place all the blame on him. Several times now she’d thought to say something, only to change her mind at the last moment. Not a single thing had seemed appropriate to talk about as a growing sense of dread was spiking icy shards through her stomach, making her retreat into herself. She simply couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was coming to an end.

Or that something terrible lay ahead.

With a sigh, Rey allowed her mount to follow his as they made their descent towards the windswept dale. She found herself watching the ripple of his cloak, the grace of his form, even mounted upon the bird. He had his hood up, and his back was straight and ridged, eyes trained ahead.

She sighed once more, eyes seeking the ribbon peeking from beneath her sleeve. She still did not know what its inscription said, but even so, the feel of its silk against her skin was a comfort, a reminder that what had happened between them wasn’t a dream.

Even if it felt like they were leaving it behind with every step–

_No._

She squeezed her eyes shut.

_I’m not giving up._

He might not have told her in any exact words how he felt about her. But the feelings she’d sensed through their bond, the night they’d shared in the inn...

He did care for her.  

She had to believe that.

Brushing her fingertips over the ribbon one last time, Rey looked up to see the first snowflakes flurry down from the somber, twilight heavens.

* * *

Snow was falling, covering the earth in shades of white and grey.

It was a few hours after they’d gotten back. The house was quiet as Rey sat cross-legged upon the bed, her new quarterstaff balanced across her knees. She was tracing her fingers along the intricate grooves and inlaid metal, becoming familiar with every detail, taking her time to appreciate the beauty and expert craftsmanship.

Ben was sitting at the kitchen table, as he had been for some time, alone with his thoughts and his lightsaber.

They hadn’t spoken much. She’d had the feeling he’d wanted to be left alone, and she’d made herself scarce.

But a moment longer of this silence might drive her mad.

Rey wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stepped through the hallway. Her steps slowed as she came into the kitchen and sent a lingering glance at his back, before she shifted her gaze and moved past him, intending to make a pot of tea.

Anything to keep her fingers from feeling like icicles.

Her movements were loud in the quiet, the shuffling of feet, the creak of the cupboards, and it made her think back on their first two days in each other’s company. Swallowing hard, she cast those thoughts aside and lightly hummed a made-up tune as she put the water to boil and busied herself with checking their food supplies.

But when the water was done and she was pouring it into the teapot, her eyes strayed to him and his lightsaber. When they’d battled each other in that forest, she’d pressed the red, serrated blade into the snow with a ferocious intent. It had waned and crackled beneath the strength of the Force.

“Why does yours look different?” she asked, peering down at the weapon he held in his hands. His was a crossguard blade, while the silver saber only had the single central hilt.

To her surprise, he gave a soft, rumbling laugh. With a jolt to her heart, she realised how much she’d missed the sound in its absence.

How quickly she’d grown fond of it.

“ _That_ … is not a very simple or easy question to answer,” he said. “To explain I would have to tell you about the history of the lightsaber itself.”

Her eyes crinkled ever so slightly, relieved he was finally speaking to her. “Well. I have time.”

A tiny smile quirked at the corner of his mouth and he gestured for her to sit down. She gathered the teapot and two tea cups before taking his invitation.

Leaning back in his chair, he began telling her of the lightsaber – that it was ancient weapon, used by both the dark and light sides of the Force – and that it was powered by a kyber crystal at its core. Rey listened raptly as she handed him his tea, but his explanation only caused her to have more questions. She asked about the crystals and he told her of how they grow in the undisturbed places within the galaxy; that they are attuned with the Force and some were so powerful they could be used to power superweapons.

He leaned closer, allowing her to get a closer look at the saber. His long, slender fingers feathered across the sleek hilt. “To answer your initial question, I created this lightsaber based on an ancient design. The quillons–“ He tapped each cross-blade with a fingertip. “–transfers heat and raw power away from the crystal, and thus lends more stability to the blade. Additionally the quillons make the saber far more challenging to block during duels.”

Then he opened the compartment of the crystal itself, and laid it in the center of his palm.

“It’s beautiful,” Rey murmured. It was multi-faceted and glowed with a faint red light that cast a soft, crimson hue across his skin. But the two fractures across its center was unmistakable.

She swallowed, leaning away.

“I… am sorry. For-“

He huffed sharply. “Have I not already told you that you apologize far too much for your own good?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as she gave a small shrug. “Maybe I simply have a lot to apologize for.”

Confusion briefly crossed his face, his gaze hardening. “If anyone has a lot to apologize for, it is I.”

He looked away then, enclosing the crystal in his fist. “The crystal was unstable before our battle. Its fractures are not your doing alone.”

Rey’s fingers tightened around her cup. “And the blue one? Can I see the blue crystal too?

“No.”

Her eyes flew up, meeting his.  

“Why not?” she asked.

“I answered your question. Do you not think it’s fair that you answer one of mine first?”

“Hm.” She narrowed her eyes, inwardly glad he returned to wanting to teach her. “Alright.”

“Why do the crystals have different colours?”

She blinked. Her lips opened, then shut. “I imagined… they simply grow… that way?”

She winced at the severity of his gaze.

“Incorrect,” he said.

Letting out a soft breath through her nose, she held out her hand. He laid the crystal upon her skin and she took it between forefinger and thumb, raising it against the light as she studied it intently. She could feel the Force hum within its depths; like a heartbeat it pulsed and ebbed, a conduit of great power.

She thought for a long moment, before answering.

“Maybe the Force user does not choose the colour… rather… the colour chooses them. The colour depends on the way in which they use the Force.”

She lowered the crystal, and looked up to see a satisfied look on his face.

He nodded. “The Force guides the user to the correct crystal. But all crystals lack colour, until the crystal is chosen. Only then does it gain its colour.”

She tilted her head. “Are there only red and blue?”

“No. Some become green, white or yellow. Purple is rare. Black is the scarcest of all.”

Lowering her gaze to the crystal, she gently brushed her thumb across its crimson facets. “I understand why you chose this one. It is… a lot like you.”

A frown twitched between his brows. “Oh?”

She looked up. “Powerful. Dangerous…” She smiled. “A little fractured.”

She held it out to him, and as he took it, their fingers brushed in a heated moment. “Beautiful and strong in its own right.”

* * *

He had only slept for a few hours when he woke up.

He hadn’t dreamed, and yet his heart was hammering as though he’d been caught in Snoke’s grasp once more.

Rey was sleeping soundly beside him, her slender form curved into him, her arm across his chest. Quietly, he slipped out of their warm bed, got dressed and with his lightsaber clipped to his belt, headed out into the frigid dawn.

There would be no sunrise in this blizzard.

But he did not go too far.

He walked to the edge of the quarry, where the wind swelled and howled at him, much like his heart and his mind was screaming in torment. It seemed he was doomed to always have two opposing forces tear him apart from the inside.

Unclipping his lightsaber, he took it in both palms and with the wind billowing through his cape, flaring it out behind him like a great black wing, he lowered down to one knee, laying the lightsaber upon the edge of the quarry’s cliff.

His hands were shaking.

It was freezing, but the cold sharpened his thoughts, uncovering the chains that were holding him back.

Chains he had wrought himself.

Chains he did not know how to break.

_Grandfather…_

How was he to let go of the path he had walked for more than a decade now? To let go of everything he had built? How could he turn his back on the sacrifices he’d made, on the pain he’d endured, on the suffering caused by his hands? How could he turn aside from the single goal that had kept him going for as long as he could remember?

He’d done everything in the name of the dark side.

He’d believed he’d been fated to carry on where his grandfather could not.

He’d believed he’d been _meant_ for something.

And now, if he chooses to abandon this path…

All of it would have been for naught.

_Show me, grandfather…_

Darth Vader had been a force that helped shape the fate of this galaxy. And Kylo Ren had always perceived his grandfather’s final choice of siding with the light as the folly of a dying man…

But could he still believe that now – that it had been folly, and not the strength of the light itself?

_Show me grandfather, show me what you would have done… Tell me what I should do!_

He was shaking, his breath falling in rapid swells of mist, his heart pounding, a scream building in the back of his throat–

The wind howled and screamed and yanked back his hood, flaring through unkempt, raven locks.

His gasping breath billowed into the frigid air.

He wanted to hate her.

Oh, how he wanted to hate her.

And yet it was because he’d lived with hate for so long that he’d been unable to recognize compassion growing within his heart before it was too late, before it had been too late to stop himself for caring for her.

His fingers clenched the lightsaber, shaking.

The light had only ever led him astray.

The light had never been there when he’d needed it.

_Until her…_

His features contorted into a sneer. What did it matter? What did it matter what he felt? Caring for one person in this galaxy, no matter how much of an achievement it may be for him - it changed nothing! When they would leave this place, when they would leave the glimpse of hope behind… Had she not herself said that is why she’d never left Jakku? She had been clinging to that one sliver of hope to see her family again, even though she knew they were never coming back.

She’d stayed for the _hope_.

And out there, in the world he had ripped apart, there could never be any hope for him.

No hope for them, together.

* * *

The wind was freezing and fierce, howling as it whirled snowflakes around the TIE fighter’s edges. Rey clung to the ladder, bracing against the cold that nipped her cheeks and cut through the bone.

All morning they’d spent cleaning out the melted remains of the old transpacitor from the TIE fighter’s hatch. They’d set up two ladders this time, and side by side they’d worked in silence as the storm gradually grew worse, snow gathering in great mounds against the ship’s wings.

By now, Rey couldn’t feel her fingers anymore.

“You should go back inside,” he called through the gale.

She looked up at him, swiping her wild hair from her face as she shook her head. “We’re almost done-“

“I’ll finish on my own.”

“But I just need to-“

He grabbed her upper arm. “You’re freezing. Go back inside.”

Holding his gaze, she exhaled sharply. “If you’re staying, then I’m staying.”

He set his jaw, his eyes flashing. “ _Rey_ -“

“No!”

Her heart clenched.

And all at once, everything she’d locked so tightly inside of her began spilling out.

“I can’t take this anymore! This– _silence_ between us. We’ve talked of everything except what had happened between us! And I can’t keep pretending that it didn’t change me. I can’t, Ben. With every breath I’m dreading the moment–“

Her breath caught.

She closed her eyes, tilting her chin away.

_When you’ll tell me that nothing has changed._

He leaned in, close as was possible upon the ladders, gently cupping her chin.

Her eyes met his.

“Everything has changed,” he murmured, words almost lost to the wind.

Her heart tugged, a shaky smile making its way to her lips. “Reading my mind again, Mister Solo?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “How can I not, when you make it so easy?”

With a deep breath, she reached for the Force, raising her mental guard.

“Then tell me what I’m thinking right now.”

He tilted his forehead to rest against hers. “You’ve been practicing.”

“Maybe. Surely I’m no match for you, though.”

Like the fading of the sunset, his features darkened and he withdrew. “You are the only being in this universe who will ever be a match for me, Rey. You must remember that. Always.”

Her throat tightened as his somberness eclipsed the momentary lightness that had stirred through their bond.

“I’m scared, Ben.”

And laced within those few words were all of her fears. That he would continue his plans to kill Luke Skywalker. That their bond meant nothing to him.  

Or did not mean _enough_.

Her fingers tightened into his cloak. “I’m scared, and I don’t want to-“

The words stuck in her throat.

Even now, she could not tell him how she felt.

Because saying out it loud, admitting she didn’t want to lose him… How could she explain that when they’ve barely known each other? When all they’ve had is this week, this little glimpse of time, and now it’s ending and she doesn’t want to let it go and she can’t tell him just how deeply she’s come to care about him, because it would make it so much more painful when everything inevitably shattered.

How could she tell him she wanted to face the world out there with him, take it day by day, face the challenges and the hard time and the good times–

 _Together_.

He tugged on her arm and guided her down. When their feet was firmly on the ground, he looked into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. She did not move, she did not say a word, though she knew that shards of her feelings filtered through, and were probably displayed openly within her eyes. All the while she watched him, remaining resolute in her stare, studying their bond in the hope to discover what was going on inside his head.

But he wasn’t giving her anything.

And she finally admitted to herself, that ever since they’d left the village, he’d been shutting her out.

Gradually.

Slowly.

Painlessly, if not for the pain she felt at its loss now.

He reached out, his fingertips caressing her cheek. But when he finally spoke, her heart fell.

“You are like a dream to me, Rey... But I will forever be the nightmare that chases the light of the dream, only to have a taste of it before morning comes.”

A violent shudder racked through her; her arms wrapping around herself.  

But she didn’t feel cold.

She felt numb.

“What are you saying?” she asked, her voice so much smaller than she would have liked.

“Whatever you think you feel for me-“

Her chest constricted, brows twisting. “Whatever I _think_ I feel?”

Scowling, he withdrew his fingers into a fist that he lowered back down to his side. “With a bond of this magnitude it is only logical that feelings of attachment would start to develop. It is understandable. You’ve been alone all your life… To then suddenly be bonded to another… It makes sense you would feel attached.”

Disbelief contorted across her face. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt dizzy in its frantically building rhythm.

“ _Attached?”_ Her breathing hitched, and she glanced away, drawing a shuddered inhale to collect her thoughts and still her racing heartbeat. “I’m not _attached_. I’ve told you before… I know what I feel. And I’m not simply under some illusion that you’ve been kind to me–”

Rage sparked inside of him.

So sudden, so bright, it seared her senses.

With a gasp, she took a step back – but he followed, snatching her arm.

And her heart, her treacherous heart, was submersed in ice as she watched the anger mar his face.

“What do you think will happen once we leave this planet?” he sneered. “What do you think my uncle will do when I stand before him?”

His eyes were blazing, his features hard and cold. “He would take one look at me and know that I do not seek his forgiveness! And why should I? When I had done exactly as I’d been meant to do!”

She blanched, the memory of him in his fevered pain from their first night here flitting through her mind. “You don’t believe that. I know you regret–“

“Regret? What is the point of _regret_? I cannot change what I’ve done. I can only accept it and become stronger because of it–“

“No, I know-“

“You do not!” He roared, his voice laced with thunderous rage that crackled and burned. “You know _nothing_ about me! You fool yourself into thinking you understand me, but you _cannot_ understand!”

Releasing her arm, he withdrew, glaring down at her. “And once we leave this place, you will finally see me for what I really am.”

She shook her head, her expression twisting in misery and desperation. Reaching out, she held onto his arms. “I already see you for who you are! You are the man who let me go, who tried everything he could to be cruel and cold, and yet your kindness and your light always found a way through. I know it’s there, I’ve _felt_ –“

He shook her off, taking a step back. “Foolish girl! You are an insignificant scavenger, and measured against the hate of the world your feelings, your forgiveness, your light – they mean _nothing_!”

She stilled, the power of his words twisting like a knife in her ribs.

And why did it hurt this much, when all the while, she’d known this would happen?

He tilted his face away, fists clenched at his sides. “Whatever you might feel for me does not change what I did. I murdered my fellow Jedi. I killed countless innocents. Your Stormtrooper fell by my hand.”

He shut his eyes and his fists shook, his cape billowing in the wind. “I murdered my own father. My own flesh and blood.”

Looking up, he met her eyes. “If I am capable of all that, what made you think I could ever care for you?”

With wide, pained eyes, she could only stare as his raging self-hatred flickered and threatened to choke her with its intensity.

Her voice was gone, tears stinging her eyes.

_Ben–_

And then, with his lip tugging into a sneer, he began to laugh. A sound that was breathless and dark and bitter, and made her feel sick to her very core.

“Do you not see? There is no future for us. There never was, and there never will be. The man you think I am… The Ben Solo you want me to be… I cannot be that man. I _cannot_ –“ His breathing snatched, voice hitching. “I cannot love you without losing myself! _Loving_ you would mean the end of _everything_. Everything I’d built. Did. Destroyed… “

With bared teeth, he snarled. “So I will hate you. I will hate you until there is no breath left inside of me.”

Her heart wrenched, tears blurring her vision.

She withdrew, retreating, step by heart-breaking step.

And fled.

* * *

She couldn't breathe.

Dear stars, she couldn’t breathe.

She didn’t know how far she’d ran, but she couldn’t see the quarry or the houses anymore. She couldn’t see anything. All around the world was grey and white with flurries of scattering snowflakes. The wind pressed and pulled at her, making her stumble blindly ahead, her arms tightly wrapped around her shuddering body.

Her lungs were burning. And everything was freezing.

But her heart felt like molten fire.

_I cannot love you without losing myself…_

Her fists pressed against her chest.

_I cannot love you…_

She kept moving, trudging on, bracing against the gale.

_So I will hate you…_

She had no idea where she was going, following the unspooling despair of her heart.

_Until there is no breath left inside of me…_

She came to a ridge – the one they’d crossed yesterday?

In the grey blizzard, she couldn’t tell where the road led up, and so she began to climb, finding strength in the pain.

The rocks were freezing, but her hands were so cold she barely felt anything anymore.

She reached–

Her foot slipped–

And pain cut through her palm as she fell.

* * *

He stood like a frozen sentinel beside the TIE fighter, peering unwaveringly into the gale.

The storm was worsening.

He could barely make out the other houses, let alone anything else.

There was only the wind and the snow.

And she was out there.

Because of him.

He’d let her go, certain that she’d flee into the house. With a single-minded focus, he’d continued working on the TIE fighter. Installing the transpacitor had been a simple task after the hatch had been repaired. But when he’d finished, shut the hatch, and dropped down from the ladder, he’d sent out his senses to find her.

And discovered her so much farther away than he’d anticipated, her spirit like a fading light upon the snow.

Foolish girl.

_Stubborn, foolish, stupid girl-_

No.

He was the foolish one.

This was his fault. He had taken the opportunity presented when she’d opened the subject, and his own fears had contorted into vicious anger that he’d lashed out at her. He’d known her deepest vulnerability – to be abandoned – and he’d used it, to twist the knife, to exploit it in the hope of–

In the hope that she would hate him. For somehow, he’d imagined it might make things easier, if she had her anger and her hate to hold onto.

He should have known it would never work.

Not with her.

And now she was out there, and she would freeze to death if–

He felt it.

The bite of her panic; her breath catching in the back of her throat; a stinging pain cutting across her hand–

And the slam of her body against the snow.

It knocked the breath from his lungs, sending him crumpling against the TIE fighter’s wing, her pain lancing through his still-tender ribs.

Breathless, he stumbled forward, regaining his composure as he marched into the snow.

* * *

It was too long until he found her.

He followed her presence like a thread; like a sliver of light cutting through the dark.

The snow was falling so severely that he would have been blind if it hadn’t been for her - and when he did draw close, he wouldn’t have known she was there if it weren’t for their bond. She was already covered in a dusting of snow.

He trudged ahead as fast as he was able, already sending out his senses to determine how badly she was hurt. Falling onto his knees beside her, he found that the fall had robbed her of breath, but the snow must have padded her landing for there were no severe injuries aside from the cut across her palm.

Then, with his hands reaching out to cup her face, to feel her pulse beneath his fingertips, the true realization dawned. The fall hadn’t rendered her unconscious as he’d presumed.

She’d stayed there, fallen in the snow, because she’d given up.

“Rey,” he called, desperation marring his tone. “Rey! Wake up! I’m here. It’s going to be alright-“

Her lashes fluttered, her eyes opening.

“Ben…”

His heart trembled in painful regret, but he shoved it aside and tugged his cloak over his head. With gentle but firm movements he swept away the snow from her slender form and wrapped her in the cloak, before picking her up in his arms.

“You do not… really hate me… do you?”

The words twisted through his chest, wrenching his heart.

And never before had he felt more like a monster, as he did in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended to release the next chapter quite soon after this one, but unfortunately it’s only halfway done. I will try to finish it as soon as possible. Thank you to every single one of you reading and supporting me. This fanfiction means a lot to me, and therefore your support is golden :)


	13. Sparks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have finally arrived at the smutty chapter! WOOT! This chapter is NSFW. 
> 
> I did my best to research hypothermia, its treatments, symptoms, etc. I read a lot of sources, and tried to write this as realistically as possible. That said, I cannot guarantee anything I describe here is medically correct. 
> 
> **Warnings:** Minor… wound… licking? *hides* 
> 
> **Song:** [Sparks by Mattia Cupelli ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uaj7oou_HvU)(seriously, this music is amazing)

* * *

# 13

## Sparks

_Even if the sky does fall_

_Even if they take it all_

_There's no pain that I won't go through_

_Even if I have to die for you_

Die For You, Starset

* * *

All the world was white, as Kylo Ren trudged through the snow. He clutched Rey’s limp form against him with all of his strength, trusting in the Force to guide him back towards shelter.

Ben.

She’d called him _Ben_.

Not monster.

Not Kylo Ren.

But _Ben_.

Even though he knew it was only because she was weak and freezing, that when she would come to, she would realize exactly what he’d done– 

_The day I call you by your chosen name… will be the day I give up on you, Ben Solo–_

And a part of him couldn’t help but cling to the selfish hope that she _hadn’t_ given up–

No.

He held her tighter against his chest.

It was his selfishness that had caused her to get hurt, his selfishness that had caused this mess.

And now with every moment that slipped by, her heat faded, violent shivers racking her body. For a while nothing but insensible words fell from her lips, and it made his heart pound in his ears with the certainty that he had never been more terrified in his entire life.

That was, until she went _quiet_.

Pulse racing, he looked down at her face.

She lay still, eyes shut, a flickering candle in the fury of the storm.

In a heart-stopping moment, he realized he couldn’t feel anything through their bond. Couldn’t feel her through the Force. Couldn’t sense her emotions, or pain, or the cold numbing her bones. It twisted his features, ripping his breath from his chest as he realized just how deeply he’d grown attached to her Force-signature–

_Attached–_

_‘With a bond of this magnitude it is only logical that feelings of attachment would start to develop…’_

His heart wrenched into the calling of her name, the word falling from his lips in a swirl of fog, but the wind snatched it away.

 _Rey,_ he called through their bond, desperately hoping she could hear him. _You cannot fall asleep right now._

Her eyelashes flickered but her eyes did not open.

An ache blossomed beneath his ribs.

_Rey._

_Tell me of Jakku._

She stirred in his arms, but did not answer.

He grit his teeth, and took another harrowed step.

And another.

_Tell me of your fondest memory._

The wind pressed against him, the frost covering his robes.

_Tell me of your best day._

_Your worst day._

But she remained silent.

And his heart was aching in a way he couldn’t understand. Aching, and breaking with every moment she did not answer.

How selfish he’d been.

How stupidly, terribly selfish.

This was all his fault.  

The wind swept up, blowing constellations of snowflakes through the grey mist and threatening to send him sprawling into the snow – he stopped, bracing against the wind, clenching his teeth, grip tightening into her limp form, unable to see damn a thing through his wild hair.

He held onto her for dear life.

_Rey._

_Tell me._

_Tell me everything._

_I want to know everything._

Her eyes fluttered open, and he was certain everything would come to an end right then as she looked at him, those brown-and-green eyes like stars searing through his darkness.

There was frost in her hair; snowflakes in her lashes.

They drifted shut once more.

_Rey!_

With a wrenching breath, he trudged another step, never shifting his gaze away from her face.

_Please._

_Hold on._

With his heart thumping from the exertion, the pain in his ribs and the desperation of her condition, he began to speak, in the hope it would keep her awake.

_You were right. About so many things. From the very first moment our minds connected, you saw straight through me. All I’ve ever wanted was to be like my grandfather. Ever since I can remember, he was the only being in this universe to whom I ever felt connected…_

A half-laugh, half-cry huffed from his lips.

_Until I met you._

His steps were becoming slower, and the snow worse, the storm bearing down on them like the whole world was fighting against them.  

_When I think back now… I do not know the exact moment my heart became yours._

The snow crunched beneath his boots.

_If it was from the first second I laid my eyes on you._

The pain throbbed in his ribs.

_Or when I found you in that hallway, and I felt your loneliness so starkly similar to my own._

The wind howled.

_Or when I called the lightsaber, and your strength proved to be far greater than mine would ever be._

A fierce gale swept across the frozen field, sending him stumbling sideways to crash hard onto his knees into the snow. It tore a grunt from his lips, but he didn’t let her go.

He _refused_ to let go.

Arms trembling, he drew a breath between bared teeth, and looked down at her.

_Rey._

_You asked me why I’d saved you._

He lowered his head, shutting his eyes as he tilted his forehead closer to hers.

_I saved you, because I couldn’t imagine this world without you. Even if we were only ever meant to be rivals, even if you were only ever to be my nemesis… I could not bear the thought of losing you._

His eyes drifted open.

_Just as I cannot bear to lose you now._

And though his heart reached out to hers, he was met only with silence.

_Please._

_Stay with me, little bird._

He looked up.

And in the distance, the ghosts of the dwellings flared through the blizzard.

* * *

His footsteps were heavy, hollow thuds on the metal stairs as he carried her towards the door. A nudge through the Force made it open, and the moment they were inside he shut it firmly behind them. He had the vague sensation of trembles racking through him; a potent mixture of exertion and cold clawing their way through his veins. Harsh breaths shuddered swells of mist through his bared teeth, but he spared little thought for himself as he carried her to the bedroom and gently laid her down on the bed.

She was covered in snow and frost; it was in her hair, all over the cloak he’d wrapped her in.

With his heart hammering against his ribs, he knew there was no time to lose.

He undressed her, working as quickly and as gently as his stiff, cold fingers allowed. When she was only in her underwear, he immediately covered her in a blanket, ensuring it wasn’t too heavy, but warm enough. She was shuddering severely now, eyelids flickering and soft whimpering noises falling from her lips.

She was so damn pale, her lips seemed blue in the dim light falling through the window.

It terrified him out of his wits. And he couldn't help but wonder what it must have been like for her on that first day, when she'd brought him inside and bandaged him all on her own.

How scared she must have been.

How conflicted.

What thoughts had gone through her head as she’d cleaned the wounds he’d deserved? What had gone through her mind as she’d felt his pain and realized she was bonded to this monster?

He undressed himself, tugging off frost-covered robes, shirt and boots until he was left in his trousers. His movements were stiff. Disjointed. Clumsy. He felt dizzy, and exhausted, but one look at her and he vowed to keep going.

For her sake.

He joined her beneath the blanket and wrapped an arm around her waist, taking care to be gentle. Knowing it might be dangerous if he rubbed her limbs, he simply lay shuddering beside her, hoping his body heat would strengthen hers.

 _I’m sorry_ , he said through their bond, not trusting his voice to speak. _I’m so sorry…_

He buried his nose into her hair, but she smelled like snow and ice and his self-loathing gripped his throat in a choking hold. What a pitiful creature he was. Pleading for forgiveness he knew he would never deserve.

_Will I only ever keep hurting you?_

Barely breathing, he tilted his forehead against hers, his hand curling over her ribbon-tied wrist, the silk half-frozen beneath his palm–

He shut his eyes, reached through the Force for the manifestation of their bond, followed her fading light like the last stars before dawn –

And fell into the tranquillity of sunlight on a sea of swaying grass, guided by the silver-gold threads that tied them together–

Felt the Force surround them in warmth and in light–

And, just for a moment, the lingering scent of blossoms.

* * *

A soft whimper fell from her lips, and her eyelids flickered.

He stilled.

“Ben…”

Warm relief slammed into his chest, a gasp catching in his throat. He splayed his hands across her spine as her fingers fanned across his chest and she curled into him, a feeling of desperation rising up from her – the first one he’d been able to sense since he’d found her.

“Ben… You came for me…”

His eyes fell shut, his fingers trembling against her.

If hadn’t been for him, she wouldn’t have been out there in the first place–

Yet he couldn’t say anything, the words heavy on his tongue.

But then she moved, slowly, snuggling deeper into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, melding her body to his, and with her heart beating against his ribs he felt her light grow brighter, like she drew strength from _him_.

Their foreheads gently pressed together.

He held her. He held her until he could feel her shivering become less severe. He held her until the darkness settled over them, and all the while, he sent her memories.

Of anything and everything good he could recall.

Sunsets over Coruscant.

The joy he’d found in his training.

The taste of strawberries.

A glimpse of his mother’s smile.

Bright bursts of fireworks…

And every, single day he’d spent in her presence.

The way the lanterns had lit her features when they were sitting on the riverbank in the village. Her body haloed in the sunshower. The feel of her skin against his. The way she smiled up at him, pinwheels clutched against her chest. The morning sunlight bathing her in soft gold. Her eyes turning as green as the ribbon he’d chosen for her in the golden lights of the festival. The silk of her hair between his fingertips.

The taste of her lips…

Things no monster should ever have been worthy of.  

And yet, she’d given them without hesitation.  

* * *

By the time he gently untangled himself from her, it was dark outside.

The worst of her shivering had passed, her spirit having regained some steadiness, but he knew her body needed more warmth.

He slipped out beneath the blanket and rose to his feet – but she caught his wrist.

Wide eyes stared up at him with something like fear.

“Please don’t go,” she whispered.

He crouched by the bed, folding her cold hand in both of his. “Your body needs warmth, Rey. I’m only going to make you something to drink.”

She shook her head, her fingers grasping into his with marginal strength. “Please… stay.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She searched his eyes. “Promise?”

His heart gave a painful tug.

He brought her icy fingers to his lips.

“I promise,” he whispered against her skin.

Letting go, he rose to his feet. He grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head as he strode towards the kitchen. She needed something simple, warm and not too heavy for her recouperating body to handle. He decided on some soup, and as he warmed up the broth, he held his hands close to the burner, flexing his fingers to work some life back into them.

Once steam began rising from the pot, he ladled some into a bowl, taking care that it wouldn’t be too hot for her to eat. Then he returned to the bedroom, to find she was still on her side, in a ball, shivering. He put the bowl on the bedside cabinet.

“Let me help you sit up,” he said, and she managed a tiny nod. He propped the pillow against the headboard before hooking an arm around her waist. She grabbed onto his arm for support, and slowly, they got her settled against the pillow. He wrapped another blanket around her shoulders, tucked the corners beneath her chin.

As he withdrew, he fleetingly caught her eyes before shifting his gaze away.

He took the bowl of broth and dipped in the spoon, stirring the contents.

He didn’t trust her fingers to be able to hold onto the bowl just yet.

So he rose the spoonful to her lips.

She took the bite.

He dipped it in again, and again, giving her only a little at a time.

After a while, she spoke. “You need to… eat… as well…”

He briefly met her gaze.

There was concern in her eyes.

 _Concern_.

For him.

“Later,” he said, and rose another spoonful to her mouth.

But she pursed her lips.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

He lowered the spoon back to the bowl, clenching his jaw.

And then she reached forward, took the bowl and placed it back onto the cabinet. She scooted closer to him, climbed into his lap, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“This is called a hug… Well, sort of,” she murmured, a lilt of amusement in her tone. “You’re supposed to be returning it.”

With his features twisting at the nostalgia of those words, his arms curved around her, clutching her against him like a tourniquet for the ache beneath the hollow of his ribs.

* * *

He didn’t know how long they remained like that, simply holding one another.

But then he felt her move, and her nose brushed against his neck… And he couldn’t restrain the leap of his heart, even if he’d tried.

He slipped out of her touch, and left her on the bed. He ignored the confused look on her face as he headed towards the bathroom and switched on the lights. He ignored the hammering of his heart as opened the taps of the shower. He ignored the longing for her as he came back to pick her up in his arms, blanket and all, and carried her towards the bathroom.

Already steam was billowing forth from the shower as he set her atop the cupboard beside the washbasin.

He felt her gaze follow him as he went to hold his hand beneath the water. It was lukewarm, not too hot to be a shock for her recuperating body.

As he turned back to her, he stilled.

Her gaze was downcast, her fingertips playing with the bow of the ribbon around her wrist.

The blanket had slid down, revealing the pale moons of her shoulders.

The sight of her shouldn’t fill him with desire.

She had almost _died_ because of him.

“The steam should help warm you at least, if you don’t feel up to a shower yet.”

He winced.

He sounded awkward, even to himself.

With a shake of his head, he headed to the doorway–

“You’re leaving?” she asked, a tiny note of panic in her tone as she looked up at him with large eyes.

He stopped.

His lips opened to speak but she continued, “But you promised you would stay.”

“Rey–“

“Would you just–“ She pursed her lips and shut her eyes. Her hands curled into fists on her knees.

After a moment, the tension flowed out of her, and she looked back at him, meeting his gaze without a hint of hesitation.

“Would you just say it? Say the words I can feel pressing against your ribs–“

“ _Rey_ – “

“ _Say_ them, so you can _forget_ about them, and move forward – because I’m _here_ , and I heard every damn thing you said when you risked your life to carry me home.”

Her eyes were gleaming with tears, an anguished expression on her face.

“I heard _everything_ –“ Her voice hitched into a sob, her palm pressing against her lips. She turned her face away, though not before he caught another glance of the tears spilling from her lashes.

“But if you didn’t mean any of it… If you really do hate me… If you _want_ to hate me… Then I won’t blame you. That’s your choice to make, but I–“

A strangled gasp cut through her words.

It twisted his heart into knots.

“I want you to stay.”

His pulse raced in his ears.

Stars, he was such a coward.

When would he stop running away from his feelings?

With long strides, he went to stand in front of her. Slowly, he reached up to her face, to brush his thumb over her cold lips… over the tear that had left a rivulet across her cheek.

“Forgive me.”

His hand drifted down, settling on her thigh as he sank into a crouch to rest his head against her knees.

“Please, forgive me.”

His grip tightened into her thighs, his whole being filling with so much fondness it became a physical ache inside his chest.

“I could never hate you… Rey… I…”

Her fingertips settled on his hair, and brushed through the unruly strands.

When he looked up, she withdrew her hands–

And beneath the emerald silk of the ribbon, he saw a flash of red.

He caught her wrist.

A long, thin scrape ran across the width of her palm, a line of congealed blood blooming across the pale skin.

He should have remembered – he’d felt the pain of it before she’d fallen.

“It looks worse than it feels,” she murmured.

He stilled.

On an impulse, he brought her palm to his lips.

And flicking his eyes up, he caught her gaze across her fingers, and swirled his tongue over the scrape–  

A low hum of desire burned through him as the coppery tang of her blood filled his mouth.

Her lips parted, a gasp hitching from her pale throat.

He felt the fire race up her arm to implode into aching need.

It almost drove him mad, right then and there.

Running away wouldn’t change a thing.

It wouldn’t change how badly he wanted her.

Craved her.

Needed her.

He grazed his lips lower, across the base of her palm, over the sensitive skin of her wrist – drawing a lovely, shuddering whimper from her – until he reached the ribbon. With his teeth, he grasped the end of the bow, and pulled, allowing the silk to spiral free.

For a moment, he gained a glimpse of himself through her eyes; a ghosting image of the emerald silk caught between his teeth, the faintest stain of blood yet lingering on the swell of his bottom lip–

“Kiss me,” she breathed.

How could he refuse?

* * *

Rey watched, almost entranced, as he rose up to tower over her, her vision dominated with his broad shoulders, and his contoured muscles that tapered to a lean, toned waist… With a swoop of his fingers he placed the ribbon aside, before pressing his palms down on either side of her. Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he leaned in.

He grazed his warm lips against hers–

Her lashes fluttered shut–

And that gentle touch was like a spark that erupted into pure fire.

It was different from the tenderness of their first kiss, or the care he took with her in the inn.

It was hunger and lust and embers of burning desire. It was rough and fierce and his teeth grazed her bottom lip and his tongue thrust into her mouth to dominate hers. A moan caught in the back of her throat as she kissed him back with as much fervour; fingers tangling into his hair, legs spreading to draw him in against her hips. Her hands gripped into his shirt and within moments the garment was tossed to the floor. She fanned her touch across his chest, humming in the delight of feeling his warm skin beneath hers. He claimed her lips again and bent her backwards with the strength of the kiss and there was no hesitation this time as she undid her breast-band whilst he grinded against her, friction unfurling into flaming arousal–

Their lips parted, and he grabbed her thigh to hook her leg around his waist as he kissed and sucked and nibbled on the sensitive skin of her neck. Moans and whimpers fell from her lips in shudders of pleasure, the blanket long-since forgotten and left to drape around her waist.

His hands splayed across her sides, sliding up across the ripple of her ribs, across the jagged skin of her scar. Shivers raced like wildfire down her back, as his mouth travelled from her neck, to the pale bows of her collarbones. His hands. They were warm, and firm, and slightly callused; the faint roughness against her bare skin building her rising need.  

He cupped her breasts, and trailed kisses across her chest before bending down and taking a pert, pink nipple into his mouth. His hot tongue laved a fire across the sensitive bud, drawing an open-mouthed gasp from her lips, her back arching into his touch.

Then his fingers raked across her scar, and her gasp turned into a moan that spun and caught in the back of her throat, her right hand grasping the back of his head. Chest rising and falling, she looked down. His messy, raven hair was a stark contrast against her pale chest. He glanced up, a glint in those wicked, umber eyes that made her blood sing.

He was enjoying this.

Enjoying the whimpers and the moans and the little gasps hitching from her parted lips.

When he pulled away, his lips were full and red, and begged to be kissed, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and claimed them for her own. The tangle of their tongues was only further tightening the tense coil of heat building between her legs. She raked her fingertips down his neck, and across his shoulders to his collarbones, to break the kiss and trace fingertips across his chest. His heart was beating a pounding cadence beneath her touch, and she leaned forward, ducking her head to place kisses all along his collarbones as her hands slipped lower to feel the hard planes of his stomach.

She couldn't wait anymore.

She looked down to see his erection straining in his trousers and it beckoned her to undo the buttons, more expertly this time than her attempt back in the inn. She reached inside and grasped the heavy curve of his cock; he hissed a breath between bared teeth and tilted his head into her hair. Wrapping her palm firmly around him, she stroked him, slow and deliberate, as he rocked his hips in tandem to her movements, his shallow breath falling in warm waves against her neck.

His hands tightened into her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. The next moment he grasped her underwear, and she tilted her hips to allow him to tug it off. As he began slipping it down her thighs, he lowered down between her legs.

Her pulse jolted.

“Ben?”

He hooked her underwear with his index finger, and tossed it aside.

And keeping her gaze, he grasped her legs, and spread them wider.

Her breathing stopped. His hands settled on her knees. Firm and slow, he slid them up her thighs, to splay across the grooves of her hips, thumbs digging into the softest part of her thighs. He tilted his head, nose brushing against the skin just on the inside of her knee, and began placing brief, hot kisses all along the inside of her legs. When he reached her apex, his hands curved inward from her hips to her mound. He stroked index finger and thumb across her clit, slow but deliberate, drawing a melody of moans from her before slipping a finger into her slick warmth.

The ease of the motion extracted a groan from them both.

And she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Her cheeks were burning, her breath hot in her throat, her chest rising and falling. She'd never felt more vulnerable, more exposed, than at this very moment with his head between her legs.

It was both terrifying and invigorating, her pulse jumping at his every smallest motion. He proceeded to spread her folds, thrusting his fingers into her with gentle swirling movements. When he withdrew, he caught her gaze and dragged his index finger across his bottom lip, before his pink tongue darted out to lick away her juices.

“You taste so good,” he murmured. “But I'd like to taste more.”

Then he leaned in again and her whole world jarred to a stop as he slid his warm tongue across the length of her slit up to the bundle of nerves at the top. Her head tipped back, throat exposed, his name leaving her lips in a half-strangled cry. Her entire body convulsed, her hands gripping into his hair, her nails digging into his scalp – which caused him to lean forward and slip the length of his tongue into her.

She cried out, seeing stars, as he began to lick and suck in earnest, using his fingers to grind and swirl and rub in ways that made her heart beat of control and sent one wave of pleasure after the other crashing through her.

“Please... Please, Ben...” she moaned.

Her hips couldn’t help but buck and roll in pleasure, so he grasped them tightly to keep them in place, and then her toes curled, her pointed feet pressing somewhere against the taut muscles of his back as a firework of pleasure exploded in her lower belly to spiral through her entire body. She called his name in a breathless, desperate sob before dissolving back against the wall, gasping for breath.

When she cracked open her eyes, she found him looming over her, hands pressed on either side of her or a smirk on his lips.

“I assume you enjoyed that.”

She would have come up with a snarky response, except her mind was floating somewhere on a cloud and she couldn't quite formulate any words. So she settled for narrowing her eyes slightly which made a deep chuckle rumble in his throat.

But then a hint of somberness fell across his features, and his fingers cupped her cheek. “Are you... feeling alright?”

It took her a moment to realize what he referred to. In light of the current... circumstances... she'd completely forgotten her earlier condition.

She nodded frantically, still somewhat dazed.

“Yeah. I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm more than fine.”

He smiled, huffing a soft breath through his nose.

Then, he leaned in, and kissed her.

Their mouths melted together, and she swallowed a low hum that rose from his throat when she darted her tongue against his. The honeyed taste of her lingered on his lips, and it was both strange and intoxicating. He wrapped his arms around her, their limbs entwined and their kiss deepened into something languid and lustful. He swept his tongue into her mouth to dance with hers in a slow rhythm. Already the flickering of desire returned anew, and she was surprised to find it growing more intense. She was still learning her own body's cravings and limits, and she'd imagined she'd be sated for at least a little while.

But he'd only made her crave more.

His cock was warm against her inner thigh and she reached down and curled her fingers around him, stroking him from base to tip. And with a spark of bravery she lowered the head of his cock to stroke him against her slick wetness.

A deep growl rumbled through him, sending a wave of his satisfaction and desire rippling into her, making her limbs momentarily go weak with euphoria.

“Fuck, Rey–“

A soft gasp left her lips–

His fingers clawed into her hips, so tight it almost hurt–

And all she could do was send him everything she yet desired, images of him taking her fully, right here and now–

She felt it drive him over the edge. He reached down and grasped the waistband of his trousers, hurriedly tugging them off. Then his strong hands grabbed her thighs and picked her up. A surprise breath escaped her lips, her legs reflexively hooking around his waist as her arms tightened around his neck. He carried her into the shower, and slowly stepped into the spray of water.

The water was lukewarm, but drew a low hum of pleasure from her lips. The steam had gradually eased her body back into warmth, but the water was even more soothing. She tipped her head back, allowing it to cascade across her face and her throat, to ripple down her back and between her breasts and when she looked back up he was watching her with something predatory in his gaze.

Stars, he was beautiful. His wild, wet hair matted against his skin, water drops glinting on the swoops of his long lashes, a sheen of wetness on his full, alluring lips –

He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her fiercely.

The kiss was messy and slick from the water rushing across them. It was grazing of teeth and crushing of lips; he sucked on her tongue, before pressing back to dive into her mouth. It had her fingers digging into his shoulders, her hips rocking against him, her back arching to feel her breasts pressed against his chest.

He was driving her mad, and she couldn't stand it anymore.

_I want you Ben... Please, I need you inside of me._

He broke the kiss, to look into her eyes. Both of them were out of breath, hearts pounding, chests rising and falling.

“Rey...” he murmured, and the tenderness in his tone made her heart ache and swell. “Are you sure? It might be painful at first.”

“I'm sure,” she breathed. “I trust you.”

He cupped her face, thumb brushing her lip, then held her gaze as he reached down between them. She felt the head of his cock at her entrance, and her entire body quivered in anticipation and excitement. Their parted lips hovered so close, in an almost-kiss…

And with their half-lidded gazes locked, he slowly slid into her.

Her fingers clawed into his shoulders, her back arching as a cry pierced her throat.

His forehead pressed against hers before he tilted his head down and growled into the spot just beneath her jaw.

“ _Rey_.”

With her head tilted back, she gasped for breath. Dear stars, she could never have imagined this sensation – this completely unfamiliar, overwhelming feeling of him inside of her.

Her mind spun on that fact.

He was inside of her.

Filling her.

It unlocked so many flickering of feelings inside of her that it almost brought tears to her eyes.

A wave of concern rose from him. He cupped her chin, turning her face to his to look into her eyes.

“Talk to me. Are you okay?”

She leaned her forehead against his, fighting back the almost overpowering wave of adoration and fondness for him... It was so strong she knew she couldn't restrain its intensity, she knew he must feel the brunt of it crashing against him.

And she knew she shouldn't think it.

Shouldn't say it.

Not in this vulnerable moment, when it was all too uncertain.

And yet the words were in her heart anyway–

But she managed a nod, and shut her feelings away as she found his lips and closed her eyes.

And then he began to move, and all of her vulnerable emotions fell away to hone in on the pleasure unfurling between her legs. He slid out, before thrusting back in, slow and languid and gentle. Any sense of discomfort she may have had faded away as the pleasure built with his every thrust, but his gentleness was for her sake, she knew.

The chains of his self-control chafed against her.

That would not do.

She began to roll her hips, meeting his thrusts. She pressed her breasts against his chest, and gently caught his bottom lip between her teeth, locking her gaze with his.

_I’m not some delicate flower…_

She released his plump lip as his mouth tugged into a slow smirk.

“No, you’re not–“

And she swore she could feel his chains snap– 

He pounded into her, hard and fast, his hands digging into her thighs, his breath falling rapidly against her neck, morphing into guttural groans that mingled with her breathless, euphoric cries–

She could feel herself clenching around him, the crest of her pleasure rapidly drawing near. It broke a deep growl from his lips, and he pinned one hand it above her head. He rutted into her, fierce and fast and all chains abandoned now–

And then it was happening all at once as the heat and the friction and the pleasure unwound from her core and spun through her entire body–

“Ben!”

Her head tipped back, her lashes fluttered, her nails raking down his back as every part of her shuddered and soared–

It pushed him over the edge. His every muscle stood taut and ridged, his lips parted and pink and her name fell from them over and over like a prayer, before his breath snagged, his eyes lighting up like amber stars–

And a long, deep growl rumbled through his chest as he came inside of her, his desire and passion and adoration for her crashing into her as he filled her with warmth.

For a long moment, her thundering heartbeat drowned out everything else.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

Couldn’t believe the electrifying intensity and tenderness she’d seen in his eyes…

Didn’t want to miss any of the minute expressions or movements, the fluttering of his lashes, the water dripping from his lips, the way he was leaning into her, his nose brushing against her jaw…

Slowly more sensations filtered back; the rapid falling of his breath, the running water, the feel of his pulse beneath her hands…

Gently, he lowered her down, allowing her feet to touch the shower floor. But her arms remained wrapped around his neck and she leaned her forehead against his chest, an unrestrainable smile breaking across her lips at the feel of his heart pounding fiercely beneath his ribs.

He had his forearms against the wall, and every part of him was still trembling.

She bit her lip through her smile, and turned her head to catch his gaze.

“I assume you enjoyed that?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

She could only see one of his eyes from beneath the wet strands of his raven hair. That one eye narrowed at her, and made a giggle bubble up from her throat.

Then she snuggled into him, as he lowered his arms to curve around her.

“But you were right,” she said.

“Right…? Do refresh my memory, I don’t believe my mind is working at the moment.”

“At the inn… you said it only gets better.” She looked up. “You were right.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Even I hadn’t realized just how right I’d been.”

She smiled up at him and he clasped her chin, stroking his thumb across her lip.

And kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we all know not everyone's first time is this lovely. But Rey has Ben, and they have the Force, ok? Hush. Thank you guys so much for your continued encouragement and support of this story. It means the world to me! 
> 
> And please think of me tomorrow, I'm writing a huge exam and I'm really stressed, lol. Thank you for reading!
> 
> A moodboard for this chapter can be found [here](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/161650612981/ladylionhartxx-he-grazed-his-lips-across-the) and a little drawing by yours truly can be viewed [here.](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/152066867911/to-carry-you-home-ashes-of-eden-fanart-my-very)


	14. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than usual, but it is probably one of the most important chapters thus far. I hope you’ll like it. 
> 
> Thank you to my exceptional friend and Sister in the Force, [StarlightSquadron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightSquadron/pseuds/StarlightSquadron), for beta reading this chapter for me. I am so grateful that you took the time away from your own writing to read this for me and give me your approval stamp ;) Seriously go check out her work, though! Her reylo fic is amazing!

* * *

# 14

## Home

_Take an angel by the wings_

_Beg her now for anything_

_Beg her now for one more day_

_Take an angel by the wings_

_Time to tell her everything_

_Ask her for the strength to stay_

Angel by the Wings, Sia

* * *

For three days, Ben refused to let her lift a finger – despite her arguing that she felt completely fine. He was adamant that she needed her rest, and wouldn’t let her out of bed until he was certain she was in perfect health. In truth, her every protest was purely superficial. She just loved the way he caught her around her middle whenever she tried to escape, and carried her back to bed with his nose touching hers. She loved the way he pinned her down and kissed her neck before tickling her ribs so much that she was crying from laughter. She loved the surprise on his face when she flipped his game on him and he was the one getting pinned, his arms above his head, sculpted arm muscles at perfect angle for her to admire, her hair falling like a curtain around them.

She loved this side of him.

This unguarded, open side.

He brought her cups of steaming tea, sweetened with honey he'd discovered in the cupboards. For their meals, she was allowed to choose what he prepared, and after he'd explained each and every type of food stored in their supplies - grains she'd never heard of before; biscuits and cookies; nuts he showed her how to break open; even something he called _pudding_ which could be mixed with water and it somehow transformed into something sweet and delicious - she decided to try something new each time. He never complained, in fact, he seemed to enjoy spoiling her. At least she'd playfully convinced him to let her sit at the kitchen table - wrapped in a blanket - whilst he worked. She learned so much just by watching him, and he never refused to answer any of her questions about the strange quirks of food preparation - why does the grain require three cups of water and not two? how does he know how long the water should boil before the pasta is ready? - his patience was never-ending and a little addictive.

When they were huddled on their bed, he massaged her feet (which ended up in him trailing kisses all the way up from her ankles, towards other places that had her shuddering in pleasure – she truly couldn’t complain) and he even played with her hair. She was a little in awe that he knew how to make a braid, but his slender fingers were aptly suited to braiding her unruly tresses into many, narrow braids that he tied back with the green ribbon.

Which of course made her insist that she braid his hair as well. She gathered his ink-black hair at his temples, and wove tight braids along his scalp and used a lock of hair to twist his wavy tresses into a knot.

It felt nostalgic somehow, like she’d braided his hair a thousand times before. She ascribed it to their bond that only seemed to have grown in intensity with every moment after their first love making. It was like every fibre of her being had become hyperaware of him – at some moments, she realized that their entire conversation had taken place through their connection, with thoughts and feelings and no spoken words.

All the while, the snow fell like fields of stars, turning the little house into a world all of its own.

It was the happiest three days of her entire life.

* * *

On the fourth day, Rey woke up to find a flower lying on the pillow beside her. It was tiny and white, with cup-shaped petals holding a golden center.

Her pulse fluttered, wonder blooming across her face. She took it between forefinger and thumb, and brought it to her nose to inhale the sweet scent. Her eyes fell shut, her lips curving into a smile. She bit her lip, already reaching for him through the Force–

At that moment, he entered the bedroom. She sat up, the blanket falling down to reveal pale shoulders and tousled hair.

She looked up at him amazement. “Where ever did you find a flower?”

The corner of his mouth quirked, his eyes falling away from hers.

He sat down beside her, the bed dipping slightly beneath his weight. He reached up, brushing a fingertip over the snow-white petals.

“Beneath the stairway… In a hollow free from the worst of the snow.” He met her eyes, and smiled. “It made me think of you and your spinebarrel.”

Her heart stilled, warmth spiralling through her chest.

“Underneath that broody exterior, you’re actually kind of sweet,” she murmured, biting her lip and running her fingers along one of his braids.

He grunted. “I do not _brood_ – “

“You _absolutely_ do–“

He caught the hand that still played with his braid, and pecked a kiss into her palm. She giggled, cupping his cheek.

“I have something for you as well,” she said.

He tilted his head into her hand, his smile growing into a smirk as he nosed her wrist. “Oh?”

She huffed a short laugh, playfully shoving him away.

“Not _that_ kind of something.”

He hummed beneath his breath, feigning disappointment.

She shook her head. “Close your eyes.”

He met her gaze, then did as instructed, a smile lingering on his lips.

Drawing a deep breath through her nose, she took his hand again, and wove her fingers through his.

She shut her eyes.

And thought back to that moment on the Millenium Falcon, when she stood surrounded by allies and watched a tiny droid light up the room with a hologram of a map. She thought of every detail she could recall, every detail that showed the exact location of Luke Skywalker.

All of this, she sent to him through their bond.

When her eyes opened, he was looking at her with a stark, stunned expression.

“There,” she said softly.  “I held up my end of the deal. A few days late, of course, but still…”

His unwavering gaze remained fixed on her, as his essence flickered with so many things. Fear, uncertainty, gratefulness. He dipped his head away, his hand tightening into hers.

She raised his hand to her lips, and placed a kiss on the backs of his fingers.

“Whatever happens now, I trust you.”

He looked at her from beneath the wild fringe of his hair. “You say that, despite all the hurt I’ve caused you– “ A bitter laugh huffed from his lips. “You trust me, when I do not trust myself.”

Her lips thinned as she leaned forward and pressed her hand against his heart. It thudded warmly beneath her palm. Looking into his eyes, she said, “I trust in _this_. And you should too.”

* * *

Kylo Ren was having the dream again.

But it was different this time.

It had always felt vivid, but now the detail was astonishing. The orchard was in full-bloom, a heaven of pink, delicate blossoms, their scent lingering like perfume in the sunlit air. Shafts of golden light cut through the breeze-stirred branches, throwing dapples of gold and silver on the grass-and-petal carpet beneath his feet. He could feel the sunlight warming his back, the breeze caressing his hair.

And the song.

A clear, sweet voice was singing the song.

But this time, it wasn’t only a melody.

_“It's alright let her sleep_

_She can't understand now…_

_No, you don't speak to her_

_Because she doesn't feel this heart anymore…”_

He moved, his steps leading directly to the large tree beyond the crumbling stone wall. Every time, he’d been drawn to the tree, knowing it had some importance, but uncertain what that was… But to deny its pull would have been impossible. His heart pounded against his ribs as though he’d been running for miles, the soft earth crunching beneath his boots as he ducked beneath branches that scattered petals into his hair.

_“Four winds and I'm alone…_

_My notes without fortune_

_Let her still sleep_

_Let her die first…”_

He felt dizzy, heart racing, but with every nearing step he came to know what he would find.

_“…This soul without love.”_

He reached the wall.

Beneath low-hanging branches heavy with pink blossoms, he caught a glimpse of a swing.

And a young girl.

She had her back towards him. She was dressed in simple robes, her brown hair tied back into three buns. Her delicate fingers held onto the ropes of the swing, her short legs barely reaching the ground.

His breath snagged in his throat, realization slamming like a sledgehammer into his chest.

The singing stopped, and the girl turned towards him.

“Ben?”

His heart wrenched, the world grinding to a halt.

“I’ve been waiting! What took you so long?”

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t breathe.

She slipped from the swing, and smiled up at him as she came to the crumbled gap in the old wall.

No.

No!

This couldn’t be–

But her _eyes_.

That unique fusion of green and brown; like a spinebarrel flower blooming in the sand–

“Rey,” he breathed.

And all at once, he knew.

“It _is_ you… It’s been you all along.”

He remembered. With sharp pains spiking through his head, he _remembered_. She was the one he’d been searching for that day. That day when everything had changed. That day when he’d murdered his fellow Jedi.

She’d been there.

She’d been one of them–

He’d been searching for _her_!

She…

He took a step closer.

And her eyes clouded with fear.

“Ben? What are you doing?”

He picked his way over the mossy, scattered stones of the wall. He felt strange, his heart pounding too loud in his ears. He was moving, even though he wanted to stop, even though he wanted nothing more than to erase the terror from her eyes. But still he neared, as she retreated into the shade of the tree…

And the sunlight faded away as he became aware of something cold and sleek in his palm.

He glanced down.

His lightsaber.

Instinctively, he knew the crytal wasn’t fractured anymore – he could feel the power of it humming inside.

Unbidden, he summoned the blade.

It crackled into existence, and a tiny gasp hitched from Rey’s lips as her back met the tree trunk.

His hand was shaking – what was he doing? Why was he doing this? He clenched his teeth, trembles racking through him as he compelled himself to extinguish the blade–

But he couldn’t.

And all he could think of was the story the trader had told him, of the boy and the girl and the tree–

A rush of memories sent a splitting headache through his head, his clawed fingers reaching up to hover fingertips over the scar on his face as he remembered bruised knuckles pressing into a door, remembered her hands shoving against his chest, remembered fingers weaving his hair into braids but they were tiny hands, like the wings of little birds–

–And the realisation that he’d never really had a choice after all.

It would always have come to this.

It always _will_ come to this.

His shadow fell across her pale, wide-eyed face.

“Ben, please! You don’t have to do this!”

The blade crackled and hummed almost joyously, as he raised it towards her–

Her eyes squeezed shut–

He thrust forward.

And then she was no longer little.

She was his Rey.

His.

And his lightsaber was pierced through her heart… and her fingers were caressing his cheek.

“Monsters… do not care about saving little birds...” she said.

A sneer curled his lip. “No. They do not.”

But then, all at once, he was no longer looking into her eyes, or standing beneath the tree. It was no longer _her_ fingers caressing his cheek…

_“Ben!”_

It was his father, peering back at him in his final moments – eyes filled with such sorrow, such heartrending sorrow – before he slumped over and disappeared into the depths–

A laugh pierced the darkness, but it was twisted and cruel, like the hissing of a snake.

Icy shivers ran up his spine.

**_Do you see now Kylo Ren? Do you see how you’ve been deluding yourself? Did you really think that you could ever have a normal life with the scavenger at your side?_ **

The voice slithered into his ear; he flinched.

**_You are a monster._ **

**_I should know._ **

**_I made you one, after all–_ **

Then, like a snake slithering from the depths, the voice manifested into something real that wrapped around his throat and choked his breath away–

**_And in every painful way imaginable, I can unmake you._ **

* * *

“Ben! Wake up!”

His eyes snapped open, his heart beating out of control like a storm raging inside his chest–

“Ben!”

She was looming over him – the real Rey, _his_ Rey – but all he could see was his father’s face, and terror was like ice in his veins as a growl tore from between his bared teeth–

He grabbed her upper arms and pinned her beneath him, his heart pounding in his ears drowning out her yelp of fright, his fingers digging into her flesh and her eyes were just as wide as they were in his nightmare–

She called his name through their bond and it rang in his head.

_Ben it’s me – it’s alright – it was just a dream!_

His breath staggered and snagged, trembles shuddering through his arms.

“Ben, look at me!”

He did.

She reached up, slowly, tentatively, like one reaches out to a wild animal.

Her fingertips caressed his cheek, and his whole being shuddered in agony.

* * *

“Ben?” His name fell brokenly from her lips, his misery tightening like a vice around her chest.

He collapsed forward, shaking, his nose brushing against her throat.

Her hand came to rest on his hair, her gaze lingering wide-eyed on the ceiling as her fingertips stroked his raven locks.

She’d only caught a glimpse of his nightmare.

When she’d touched his shoulder to wake him, an image had ghosted through her head.

His father.

Han Solo, with the crackling lightsaber plunged through his heart.

Her eyes squeezed shut, her arms curving around Ben’s still-trembling form.

Something warm and wet trailed across the skin of her throat, making her still.

Was he–

But then he brushed warm lips across the flutter of her pulse and sucked gently on the tender skin, drawing a gasp from her lips–

And she lost herself in the fire of his kisses, in his touch demanding what her body was only too willing to give.

In the heat of passion, the darkness of his nightmare was chased from her mind.

* * *

It was still early when he rose from their bed.

At some point, Rey had fallen asleep again.

He spared a moment to look down at her. The strands of her hair were spilled like ink across the pillows, her delicate fingers were slightly curled and tucked beneath her chin.

But even that single, lingering glance felt like a betrayal. He was not worthy to even look upon her.

What had he done?

Given her hope, taken it for himself – when all along, it had been nothing more than a reckless dream?

He dressed, took his lightsaber and headed to the warehouse. He stepped through the wrecked antechamber and into the open space where the hovercraft had been stored.

He did not switch on the blade; it was not needed.

He could practice his forms and techniques without it.

And for several hours, he did, until there was only him, his breath, the pounding of his heart, and the strength in his veins. He discarded his robes and shirt; his body trembled, slick with sweat. Every sense and instinct honed in on the technique of the saber, on his stance – feet planted firmly, yet light with energy – on the movement flowing from one form to the next – fierce, dominant strikes that forced an opponent into defensive stances. His ribs proved to be a nuisance. In truth it was his harrowed breathing that caused him to tire out sooner than usual – but it spurred him on to work harder. It awoke the exhilaration he always found in battle – the only thing he had ever relished in.

He was a cyclone of destructive power.

It was all he could ever hope to be.

And yet, even the euphoria from his training could not keep the fear nor the questions at bay. Had the whole nightmare been a trick Snoke had played on him? But why had it felt so real, so vivid – as though he’d really been there in that orchard?

No. It _must_ have been a memory, at least in part. He was certain that Rey had been there that day, at the temple – that she’d been amongst the Younglings. But for the life of him he couldn’t remember anything else – couldn’t even remember _one_ other memory with her in it.

Was this why he’d been drawn to her from the start?

Was their bond nothing more than suppressed memories?

The fear and doubts pressed and rolled like waves against his consciousness, spilling their inked sickness into his veins that coiled and writhed like snakes in his chest.

In the end, the decision had already been made for him.

He should have known that there had never been any hope for him.

He should have known he’d been a fool for thinking he could change his destiny.

But there was still one thing he could do.

He could protect her.

Even if it meant he needed to tear out his own heart to do it.

* * *

When Rey came out of the shower, she was still alone in the house.

She reached for him through their bond, a gesture that was beginning to feel almost natural.

_Where are you?_

Only a moment passed, before his answer came.

**_In the warehouse._ **

She paused, letting out a little sigh. When she’d woken up and found him gone, she knew the terrors of the night still haunted him. She’d decided to give him some time, and tried to give him space through their bond. But did he know that he could rely on her?

Did he know she would be here for him? That she wanted to learn how to carry his burdens?

In the breadth of a moment her decision was made – she tugged on her coat, and headed towards the kitchen.

**_Rey, stay inside. You shouldn’t be out in the cold._ **

_It isn’t snowing right now, and the sun is out. I could use some fresh air._

She was almost to the door when she spotted his cloak across the back of the chair.

She pursed her lips.

_You tell me to stay out of the cold and yet you aren’t even wearing your cloak._

She donned the garment, draping it across her shoulders and pulled up the hood.

Then she set off. Her breath fogged into the air, and the snow crunched beneath her boots. But it wasn’t nearly as cold as the days before – the sunlight cast the snow into mounds of shimmering silver and painted the rocky ridges in the distance with shades of blue-grey.

It was beautiful.

And dangerous, she thought with a quirk of her lips, like so many other beautiful things in this galaxy.

She made her way into the warehouse, and found him bare-chested and leaning against the wall. For just a moment, her eyes trailed over him – taut, rippling muscle and pale skin, and hipbones that could drive her mad – but now was not the time for such thoughts. Not when there were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his arm was once again wrapped around his rib cage like in those first few days.

She walked over to him, letting down the hood. He peered at her through his sweaty bangs, letting his eyes rove over her appearance, but he didn’t say anything.

She came to stand in front of him, and fixed her eyes on his. He was still breathing hard from whatever exercise he’d been doing, and his eyes fell shut as he tipped his head back against the wall.

But she cupped his cheek, his skin hot against hers, and forced him to look down at her.

“Ben. You don’t have to tell me what your nightmare was about. But I need you to know that I’m here for you. Please, you don’t have to suffer alone.”

Something pained stirred in his eyes and it made her chest ache as he reached up to lay his hand over hers.

After a long moment, he closed his eyes, and murmured, “I do not deserve you.”

She swallowed, and pressed on, before her courage could fail her, “You do. But that is not the point of love, is it?”

Shock snapped across his features, stark umber eyes flying open.

Her heart stopped.

She tugged her hand from his, took a step back, opened her lips to apologize–

But he reached for her, and cupped her face, and held her prisoner in that intense gaze that was like a fire all on its own.

His hands were trembling against her skin.

She reached up, fingers curling around his wrist.

“It’s alright,” she murmured. “You don’t have to say anything. You already knew how I felt–“

“Rey…” He leaned in, placed a shaky kiss on her forehead. “Whatever is left of my heart… It is yours. It will always be yours.”

* * *

Rey stood in the kitchen, her quarterstaff on her back, her fingers trailing over the ribbon once again tied to her wrist.

Dim light fell through the windows, casting the quiet home in soft greys.

It had felt strange, waking up this morning, and knowing they were leaving.

So much had changed.

And she couldn’t recall ever having been more terrified in her life.

At first she’d felt it was only right to leave things as they’d found them – she’d started putting everything neatly in its place, but he’d caught her hand and told her to stop. To leave everything as they’d left it.

To leave the evidence of their time spent here, together.

It had made her heart ache, but he’d been right.

And now she stood there, fists at her sides, her gaze trailing over the tiny place that had come to feel like home. The clean dishes by the sink, the teapot on the counter, the little, white flower she’d left in a glass on the table. The door to the bedroom stood ajar, revealing a neatly made bed, but the stains of blood from their first night here yet remained.

Would she ever see this place again?

This place, that had changed everything?

His heavy steps came up the stairs, and she met his gaze through the kitchen doorway.

“You ready?” he asked.

She nodded, and drew a deep breath. With a last look, she joined him outside, and he shut the door behind them.

And as they walked hand in hand to the TIE fighter, she knew, as long as he remained by her side, she would always be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have quite a few things to say, so bear with me you wonderful people!
> 
> I can’t believe we’ve reached this point... I’ve been emotional about it all day. *sniffles* I’ve been planning these scenes January 2016, and to see them finally happening is truly a big deal for me. But we all knew they had to leave at some point, right? However this story is _far_ from over. Stay tuned, for it’s only going to get more complicated from here!
> 
> Then I also need to say thank you. To all my readers, YOU ARE INSANELY AMAZING. The feedback I’ve gotten from you… It’s touched me very deeply. I’m just a girl, sitting alone in her room, writing this story. To know my fanfic means something to you as well, even if it only made you smile, that really makes me very happy. 
> 
> That said, here is a special person I need to thank! Morgaine, who made FANART for this story!! *happy squeals* You can find the art on her deviantart; [here](http://morgainej.deviantart.com/art/Ashes-of-Eden-640792987) and [here](http://morgainej.deviantart.com/art/Lilac-Sky-641379727). Please check them out, they’re absolutely lovely and I couldn’t be more thankful for her taking the time to make two pieces of gorgeous art inspired by my writing :) 
> 
> Finally, the song Rey sings in the story, is called [Nuvole Bianche by Ludovico Einaudi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dD8O7pnpU6k). It’s an Italian song. The grammar is a little weird, but you’ll get the idea. If you want, go listen to it, as it’s one of the most beautiful songs ever.
> 
> A moodboard for this chapter can be found [here.](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/152272584343/ladylionhartxx-all-the-while-the-snow-fell)


	15. Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been planning this scene for over a year now... I almost can't believe I've made it this far. I truly hope this chapter was worth the wait. Let me know what you think, and thank you for everyone who is still reading and sending me encouragement!

* * *

# 15

## Sky

_Wind, let me lose my mind,_

_She must come back sooner or later._

_Let me suffer alone._

_Let me forget first._

_You have to fly, don't keep yourself down_

_Alone, alone I have to stay_

_Let her have sun_

_I have to stay in the dark_

Nuvole Bianche, Ludovico Einaudi

* * *

Ben was first to climb out of the TIE fighter, and Rey followed him up the short ladder. She emerged through the latch door, the wind cool on her cheeks after the long journey and filling her nose with a wholly unfamiliar scent. Crisp and green and–

She paused, her breath snagging.

The world was orange and deep-pink, set aflame by the sun lingering on the edge of the horizon. For a single moment she mistook her surroundings – was thrown back to the scorching sunsets of home that turned the sand into pure gold – but it was not the endless dunes of Jakku that lay before her eyes.

It was the _ocean_ , smooth and flat and so, so blue – like the sky! It stretched as far as the eye could see – infinite and endless, from one horizon to the other – broken only by a few scattered, rocky islands that pierced the water like the skeletal ships from Jakku’s dunes.

Her fingertips hovered over her slightly parted lips.

Something stirred inside of her.

Dreams.

Dreams of green islands and blue waters…

But the sight before her was not a dream, and yet it was all the more magnificent and awe-inspiring.  She shook her head, dazed, her fingers falling away from her lips. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It’s… I don’t even have words. It just goes on forever!”

She twisted all the way around, gaze drifting from one end of the horizon to the next, drinking it all in with wide eyes, before she realized Ben was watching her. Her gaze flicked to his, and found something like amusement resting in the slightly creased corners of his eyes. She felt a tinge of embarrassment – he was always looking at her like that, like _she_ was the ocean and he was the one to see it for the first time – but there was fondness in his eyes and felt through their connection as he sent her a thought as crisp and clear as the wind:

Just as she could not help but marvel at the world, he could not help but marvel at _her_.

Her heart flipped.

He held out his hand.

Rey climbed the rest of the way, using the exterior handholds for support, until she could reach out to take his offered hand. With her fingers tightly clasped in his, she leapt the last way down, landing on the moss beside him.

He’d steered the TIE fighter into an open, grassy area at the crest of a sheer, rocky island. It was only a few short steps to the cliffside to peer over the edge. From far below, where the waves crashed against the jagged shoreline to spray white foam across the rocks, the ocean breeze swept up to meet them. It was cool and gentle, stirring the strands of her hair.

But with the foreign salty scent, came the sense of something else, something heavy that cloaked her in its embrace. She may not understand the Force, not yet, perhaps not for a long time, but even in her inexperience she could feel this place was old. All around them, the earth and the air and the sea carried a hint of something greater than them, something ancient and mystical that had seeped into the very bones of the rocks beneath her feet, and now echoed its age-old memories and mysteries through her being.

“What is this place?” she murmured.  

“I am not certain,” he said. “But the Force is strong here, and your senses are correct. It is old. Very old. Perhaps this was once holy ground… Or still is…”

His voice trailed off, and she gazed up at him. He had his hood up, the wind stirring the material as though trying to reach for his hair. But the raven locks were still in the braids she’d woven tightly against his head.

Her throat tightened.

For all the beauty around her, looking at him made her heart ache. As he stared out at the great expanse before them, she watched the way the sunset made his eyes seem brighter, warming their deep umber to honeyed amber.

The corner of his mouth tilted into a slow smirk and as he minutely lowered his chin, slanting her with an intent look, heat spiralled out from her chest.

Yet even that could not burn away the worries and fears lurking just beneath the surface.

She dropped her gaze from his.

“He knows we’re here… doesn’t he?” she asked.

His fingers reached for hers, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand. “He’s probably known we were coming for a long while.” Then thoughtfully, he added, “Perhaps before we’d even known it ourselves…”

Rey bit her lip.

They had not spoken of plans.

Of what lay ahead.

If she were to ask her heart, she was certain it would tell her that Ben was as uncertain as she was.

But if she were to ask her head, she couldn’t help but wonder, and be afraid…

Afraid of the change she knew was racing towards them.

The change that would be wrought the moment Ben faced his uncle.

It was hard to believe that only a short while ago, Luke Skywalker had been a mystical figure to her. A legend. Certainly not someone she’d ever imagined she would meet.

And now here they were and it felt like her life balanced on the edge of this cliff. Not at the least because she was so anxious to meet the man from the stories.

But because she did not yet know where she fit in this fight.

The _only_ fight, as Maz Kanata had said.

At the very least, she hoped to get some answers about her family, as Maz had alluded that Luke Skywalker might know _something_.

All of it made her head spin and her stomach tense into a knot.

Perhaps her uncertainty was more profound than she realized for he touched her chin, tilting her head towards his, his lips quirking at the corners. “There will be no battles today, little bird. At least, not the sort waged with weapons.”

The assurance in his tone allowed her tightly coiled worries to ease somewhat, but still her chest felt tight as she took a shaky breath through her nose and managed a nod.

“Come,” he said. “My uncle is not far from here.”

With their hands joined, she followed, his fingers never once leaving hers.

And she couldn’t help but wonder, if he was holding her hand for her sake, or for his own.

* * *

They came to a mossy pathway, and traversed its winding stairway as twilight settled over the island. It led them to a terrace paved with stones – several stonework dwellings bordered it on either sides, and the wind sang an eerie tune through the narrow pathways.

Then came the scent of woodsmoke, and something cooking.

It made her realize how hungry she was.

Ben’s steps were slower now. Heavier. His fingers digging into hers. Yet these were the only tells of his inner turmoil, for if he was afraid, she could not _feel_ it.

He was concealing his emotions with careful precision, gathering it all up to lock away tightly, and presented only what he wanted his uncle to see – like slipping that black, frightening visor back into place.

It made her heartbeat freeze inside her too-tight ribs, and her feet came to an instinctive pause – it would only prolong the inevitable, she knew – but in the end her sudden movement had had no effect.

For at that same moment, Ben froze in his steps.

While she’d been watching _him_ , he’d been looking ahead.

To the stairs that lay before them, and the cloaked man at the crest.

Everything snapped to a standstill, like they’d stepped into the eye of a storm, and the very world was holding its breath.

Luke Skywalker was the first to move.

He took a step down the stairs, and then another and another, and something about his movements, in the way he was riveted to Ben, in the way he was almost shaking, almost stumbling, made her think of a man who had walked through the desert to stand in awe of the oasis before him.

When he’d reached the last stair, he stopped, and the energy radiating from him was profound and strong and yet entirely different from anything she’d expected.

It was like staring into the sun.

Bright.

 _Blindingly_ bright, and thus, indecipherable.

He reached up and pulled back his hood.

She caught sight of a mechanical hand, but what held her gaze was his _eyes_.

Eyes that were fixed squarely upon Ben.

He took another step closer, and Ben went as stiff as a board, his fingers clawing into hers so tightly it sent pain clenching through her hand.

For half a moment, her heart hovered on the edge of sinking down to her feet.

But then Luke Skywalker reached out with his real hand, slowly, like one would reach out to soothe a frightened animal. His brow creased, in sorrow and in determination.

“No,” he said, voice carrying a deep strain of emotion, and she realized that whatever was passing between them was spoken silently. “For tonight, I only wish to look upon my nephew.”

A sound rose from Ben’s throat, so pained, so tortured that it wedged a blade between her ribs – Luke Skywalker finally reached across the rest of the distance to lay his palm against his nephew’s cheek.

And the keening pulse that twisted through her heart did not entirely belong to her alone.

* * *

When Luke Skywalker withdrew from Ben, he turned his gaze to her. 

His eyes were a silvery blue, sharp and keen and somehow far older than the years he carried in the whitening of his beard, or the lines on his face.  

They were kind eyes.

Kind, but sad. 

It was the weight of that sadness that made her realize he knew exactly who she was.

 _Rey_ , his voice snapped through her mind like lightning. _Thank you for bringing my nephew back to me._

Aloud, he said, “Come. Sit by the fire. You both look exhausted.”

* * *

There was silence and there was tension and there was Ben’s hand in hers.

His presence was tight and yet almost… quiet. Not calm, but something closer to that one morning when she’d bandaged his knuckles. Numb. As though his uncle’s reaction had taken the wind from his sails.

He’d told her there would be no battles today.

But perhaps even he had not expected _this_.

The kindness, the longing, the sorrow in those silvery eyes.

_Are you alright?_

She sent the words through their bond, though the only answer she received was a squeeze to her hand before he let go.

She let out a little breath, though it did nothing to ease her anxiety. They followed his uncle towards the crackling fire. The warmth was welcome – it may not be as frigidly cold as the planet they’d come from, but the wind rushing up from the ocean was cool all the same.

She noticed there was a cauldron over the flames. There was steam rising from whatever was bubbling within and it made her stomach growl loudly as she sat down.

Her eyes widened in embarrassment but she was rewarded with a hearty chuckle as Luke scooped up a wooden bowl from where it resided on the stones by the fireplace, and proceeded to ladle it full of stew.

“You must be hungry,” he said, and turned to her. He offered her the bowl. “Here. The island’s offerings may be simple, but they are good.”

Oh, she didn’t doubt that for a moment. Not judging from that mouth-watering scent!

She took it with both hands and when she met his eyes she couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you.”

Lips quirking, he nodded, then filled a second bowl. This one he held out to his nephew.

Ben did not meet his uncle’s gaze, nor did he smile – but he did take the bowl, and she released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

As Luke turned away, she gently bumped her knee against Ben’s, hoping he would look at her.

He did not.

They ate in silence. It might have been awkward, except the food was good and she’d always been used to silence. At the moment, it was peaceful. That was, if she ignored the very real ebb and flow of energy from the two men in her company – but at least for now there was nothing openly hostile about either.

A victory in itself.

When she finished her first bowl, Luke was quick to offer her more, almost like he knew she wasn’t full yet – he probably did – and it made her wonder if he was glad of their company. Even though she’d lived a solitary life on Jakku, she’d still had interactions with people - but he was here entirely by himself. She smiled warmly and gratefully accepted her second helping. Only when she was done and looked up did she notice the slightest easing around Ben’s lips as he caught her gaze.

Not a smile, not quite.

But it was something.

* * *

It wasn’t long after that when Luke Skywalker rose to his feet.

“The dwelling behind you should suit your needs. Please, rest here tonight, and we shall speak in the morning.”

Then, just like that, he left, heading into a nearby hovel that was lit up from within with flickering candle light.

In his absence, the silence was deafening.

Rey slowly faced the man at her side. He was staring into the fire, the firelight casting dancing shadows across his features.

“Ben?”

Leaning closer, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He tilted his chin a fraction, eyes finding hers. “Go on ahead. Get some rest. I… need some time to think.”

She took a slow breath through her nose, and nodded. Squeezing his shoulder, she rose to her feet, and lingered for a moment, before heading into the hovel.

It was more spacious than she’d imagined, and warmer too. At the center was a firepit, bordered with stones that were blackened from use. Directly across the pit was a kitchen of sorts, with a table and neatly arranged eating ware, jars, cooking pots and other utensils. To her left there was a stack of firewood and to her right, raised on a dais, was a bed covered in simple bedding.

She didn’t quite know what to make of the fact that the hovel seemed like a place intended for two people to live.

Releasing a heavy breath, she headed up to the bed. She sat down. It was soft and inviting and lured her down to sleep. There was a candle on each nightstand, and she lit the one on the opposite side of the bed, before she settled beneath the covers and closed her eyes.

She woke only once, for a moment, when Ben joined her. His arms wrapped around her and he drew her into him and she snuggled against his chest as she fell back asleep.

* * *

Where they stood upon the cliff the air was cool and fog rose from the din of waves crashing against the rocks below. The birds were only now awakening, swooping from their nests perched along the cliffs to plunge towards the mist-obscured waters and bring back their catch to chirping chicks.

Luke was fond of the birds. He spent a great deal of his time watching them, getting to know which birds nested where, and how many chicks they were raising this year.

And yet this morning his gaze was blind to anything but his nephew. Ben had been avoiding his gaze ever since he'd gone to wake him up an hour ago. They’d walked side by side, their swishing robes growing wet from the dewed grass.

Now they stood, in silence, and Luke waited.

He waited as the Force shifted and ebbed, imbued with anger and regret and sorrow.

He waited as Ben gathered the pieces of himself.

He was a patient man.

He had waited for so many years by now.

He could wait a few moments more.

Then, when Ben finally spoke, he aimed the words at the rocks beneath their feet.

“You took my memories,” Ben said.

No accusation.

A simple statement of truth.

And though it should have come as no surprise, hearing those words aloud, for the first time after all his years of carrying the guilt, it yet felt like a punch to the gut.

“Yes,” Luke said.

“And hers.”

Another twist of the guilt. His eyes shut for a long moment before he answered. “Yes.”

Only then did Ben turn to face him. But where Luke expected anger, anger that matched the weight of it in the Force, he found solemnness instead.

“You were right to protect her from me,” Ben said – and Luke realized the rage choking the air around his nephew was not aimed towards _him_.

It was pointing inwards.

“ _No_.” Luke grabbed his nephew’s shoulders. “I _took_ her from you. The one person who would have been able to save you, to turn you from this path! I should never have taken your memories. I had acted in haste and in fear. Fear for her life! Too late did I realize–“

“My mistakes are my own,” Ben growled, twisting away from him. “And she did save me.”

There was a pause, and it was painful. Like spikes pressing against his senses.

Ben’s gaze flickered away from his. “But I cannot save her from myself.”

Luke shook his head. “Ben–“

“I murdered my own father,” came the fiery words, with an equally fiery flash in his nephew’s eyes. “I took his life with my own hands!”

Luke stilled, fixed by the undertone of torment so tightly interwoven in those words. “Han’s death is not on your hands alone.”

Ben sneered. “No one else is to blame. I killed him. I pierced his heart with my saber. I felt his life ebb away as I stared into his eyes.”

Luke did not flinch. He had seen Han’s death for so many years, for such a long, tormenting time that every heartbeat of it was forever ingrained on the backs of his eyes. “If anyone is to blame, then it is I. I had foreseen it. I’d tried to change it. And by doing so I’d played right into the hand fate had dealt.”

He watched as his nephew stilled; the words sinking in.

Ben’s voice was little more than a hiss between his teeth. “You had foreseen it?”

“I did,” Luke said, and for the first time turned his gaze away from his nephew, to stare out at the light breaking through the mist. “Many, many years ago, back when you first came to me. The Force gave me a vision of the future. It showed me that Han would die by your hand. And I acted in fear. I had forgotten a lifetime of teachings, because I had been afraid.”

“Afraid.”

Luke’s eyes sharply flicked back to Ben’s. “Not of you. For you. For _Rey_. For your father. And I had thought I could change what was to come. But by trying to change it, I had caused it to happen. It happened because I had taken your memories. Because I had taken Rey’s memories. Han’s death is not on your hands. It is on mine.”

* * *

For the longest time, they stood in silence. Eventually Kylo Ren returned his gaze to the grey expanse of the ocean.

“There is only one option left to me,” he said. “Snoke needs to die by my hand.”

This time, he felt the change in his uncle like the roll of thunder.

“You intend to fight him on your own? If that is your plan then you willingly go to your death!”

He let out a breath through his nose. “It is nothing less than I deserve.”

“And what of your mother?” His uncle exclaimed, once again grabbing him the shoulders to peer into his eyes. “Do you think she deserves to lose her only son?”

His fists tightened at his sides.

“She already lost her son, the day he murdered her husband. Either I kill Snoke and I am free of his hold, or I perish by his hand, and I can cause no further harm to anyone.”

His uncle’s pause grated against his senses.

“And what of Rey? What does she think of your plan?”

A bitter huff escaped his lips. “I have not told her.”

The hands drifted away from his shoulders. “You are willing to leave her behind?”

“I am doing this for her sake! Which is why I will give you all the information I can. In exchange for the promise that you take it to the Resistance.”

Surprise and pain mingled in his uncle’s eyes. “Ben–“

“No,” he growled. “You will do this. You will take care of her, and protect her, even at the cost of your own life. You will take the information to the Resistance. And you will not tell her of my plans. This is the least you can do for me. For her.”

As he said the words, the words he’d been contemplating ever since that last sickening nightmare, he felt… hollow.

Yet relieved.

He’d finally made his choice.

He’d finally decided.

There was enough strength in that alone, to carry him through.

What he did not expect was his uncle taking a step forward, to rest a trembling hand against his cheek.

“My dear boy,” Luke said. “I have failed you. I have failed your father.... And I am sorry.”

Kylo Ren shook his head, and surprised even himself when he grasped his uncle’s hand in a squeeze that was not inherently unfriendly. “We have not yet failed. The future of this galaxy rests in the hands of one girl. And we will do what we must to ensure she is safe.”

* * *

He found her sitting cross-legged by the cliffside, staring out across the ocean, her form etched against the soft hues of the morning sun.

Without a word, he sat down beside her, settling his legs in the same position.

Their essences brushed against one another, gentle and welcoming.

“If only I’d had all this water back on Jakku,” she said, a wistful note in her tone. “Do you think we can go down there, later? I’m dying for a closer look.”

He couldn’t restrain his amusement – she looked up to catch the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile.

“What?” she asked.

“So long as you remember not to drink it. It’s salty.”

She blinked.

His grin grew. “The _water_ , little bird.”

“What, all of it?”

That frown twisting between her brows was unfairly adorable.

A breath that sounded terribly like a laugh escaped between his lips. “Yes. All of it. The ocean’s water isn’t suitable for drinking.”

She tilted her head down at the waves, still frowning, before looking back up. “It can’t be that bad.”

“I assure you it is.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Please, by all means, taste it for yourself. I will watch and enjoy the faces you make.”

She laughed, and the sound warmed his heart and he tucked it away, to treasure it when his world would be filled with silent darkness.

Then the joy slowly dimmed from her face, a somberness settling in its place.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she murmured. “Something that’s been bothering me for a while now.”

He faced her, watching with quiet intent as she took the silver lightsaber from her belt. Her gaze was on the weapon as she spoke. “You said that the crystal chooses the person… That it calls out to them.”

She looked up.

He gave a firm nod.

For a couple of moments, she seemed to wrestle with whatever she wanted to tell him. He could see it in her eyes as much as he could feel her uncertainty.

He waited.

“Back on Takodana…” she said. “I heard something. I heard voices, calling out to me. They led me to this lightsaber. And when I touched it, I… saw…”

A frown cut across his forehead.

 _She_ was the one to find it?

He had wondered how it had come into the hands of her Stormtrooper…

But he hadn’t even imagined…

“What did you see?” he asked.

Her fingers tightening around the saber. “Visions. Flashes of things… people…”

She looked up and his breath stilled in his throat.

“I saw _you_. You were standing in the rain, surrounded by your men, and – and I swore you could see me. But then the vision changed and you were coming towards me in the snow… I saw our battle before it ever happened.”

And all at once, it all made sense; the pieces clicked together even has his heart came to a lurching halt.

The lightsaber hadn’t flown to her hand simply because of her strength in the Force, which was formidable enough on its own.

No.

The crystal _chose_ _her_.

_It chose her._

Oh, what a fool he had been.

All this time, he’d been asking for his grandfather’s guidance when the answer had been so clear all along. The same crystal that had called to Anakin Skywalker, to Luke Skywalker – it called to _her_.

Not to _him_.

And if there was ever a way for the Force or his grandfather to have shown him he had followed the wrong path, then this was it.

“You’ve seen this place before,” he said, cloaking his realization away with an ease that surprised even himself. “In your dreams. When I’d first looked into your mind… This was the place you had dreamed of. ”

A frown flickered across her forehead. “It could have been… but I don’t understand.”

His mouth tugged. “The Force.”

Her frown deepened.

“The Force showed you where you were meant to be. It gave you something to hold onto, to hope for.” He turned his eyes to where she yet held the lightsaber, and he curled his fingers tightly over hers, before pressing her hand back towards her chest. “And here you are.”

“Ben…” Her eyes searched his, but he rose to his feet, and held out his hand.

“Come.”

She tilted her head. “Where are we going?”

He gave her a wide smile. “Swimming.”

* * *

A breath escaped between her lips, a sense of wonder filling her being as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the misty breeze against her skin.

She inhaled deeply, tasting the salt upon her tongue.

So, he’d been right about the salt in the water.

Quite amusingly so.

She was still a little miffed, to be honest.

She was lying on her back, on the sandy bank, still wet from their swim. Ben was lying beside her, his hand loosely woven through hers.

She didn’t want to breach the subject of his uncle, but then again, she couldn’t put it off forever.

“So… you’ve spoken to him…”

“I did,” he said.

“And…”

He inhaled a deep, slow breath. “And right now, you and I are lying here, and that is all I want.”

Her lips spread into a slow grin. “I can think of something else I want too.”

He cracked an eye and peered at her through his damp, tangled bangs.

Arching a brow, he smirked. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Biting her lip, she sent him one image after the other of exactly what she had in mind. Of their bodies tangled together; of her gasping as he entered her; of his arms around her waist and his lips on her throat…

At first there was no outward reaction, until he rolled over and pushed her into the sand, crushing his lips against hers.

* * *

When her eyes snapped open there was dread at the pit of her stomach. Her heart was racing and her breath coming fast–

And she had no idea why.

Blinking, she propped herself onto her elbows – the bed beside her was cold and empty...

Except for the pillow.

On the center of Ben’s pillow, rested a flower.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

Somehow–

_Where ever did you find a flower_

As she took it between her trembling fingertips–

_In a hollow free from the worst of the snow_

It didn’t fill her with joy as it did that morning–

_It made me think of you and your spinebarrel_

Only dread.

She was out of the bed in a flurry of covers, lingering only long enough to snatch her coat from the kitchen chair before she dashed through the doorway.

The morning was cold and misty and dark; the sunset a dim yellow strip on the horizon.

 _Hurry_ , a voice said in her mind. _Hurry, Rey!_

She did. She ran, reaching through their bond, searching, screaming.

“Ben!” her voice rang through the quiet morning air. “Ben!”

She didn’t even think where she was going. She just felt. Her steps echoed through the cold, quiet dawn, her breath coming hard and fast.

There was no response from him and it made her run harder, faster, like she’d never ran before in her life.

And as she came to the pathway leading up to where they’d landed the TIE fighter, she took the steps two at a time, barely feeling the air biting at her skin as it swept through her loose hair.

Reaching the crest, she froze in her steps.

He was standing by the wing of the TIE fighter, his cloak snapping in the breeze, his hands clenched into fists. His head was tilted a fraction towards her, like he’d known she would come, even if he’d done nothing to call her there.

Her breath was coming hard.

And she was trembling.

But not from the run.

“Ben…”

Her voice hitched, trembling like her limbs, induced by exertion and terror.

He remained still and silent. He didn’t turn, didn’t move.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

And yet he just stood there, as every part of her threatened to unravel.

“Answer me!” She marched towards him with fierce steps. “Where are you going?”

By the time she neared, he’d slowly twisted to face her, and the pale solemnness of his features made her steps falter. Yet it did not deter her determination. “Tell me!”

“I’m leaving,” he breathed, the words snatched by the wind.

Two words, and her world blurred.

“I can see that! I asked you where you’re going!”

Her voice bordered on hysterical, yet his was numb by comparison.  “Nothing I can say will make you understand.”

A scoffing laugh sprang from her lips. “Oh, you’re damn right about that. Nothing will ever make me understand why you’re leaving without me! Without even saying goodbye?”

Angry tears glimmered in her eyes, blinding her vision – she swept her hand harshly across them, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

But he was calm. So sickeningly calm.

“You were planning to leave from the moment we came here,” she said. Still, he did not answer, and she rounded to stand right in front of him, with the intent to force him to look at her.

His eyes remained downcast, and she shoved her hands against his chest. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, and it was like a knife in her ribs.

“Why!”

Her fingers clawed into his robes, as his heavy gaze met hers. “Because this is the only way.”

“The only way for _what,_ ” she snarled.

“That you will be safe.”

Flinching away, Rey shook her head, bewildered and so, so sick with dread she felt like she might pass out. “Safe? _Safe_? I don’t care about being safe! I care about being with you!”

He watched her, and try as she might, she couldn’t find a shred of emotion in his eyes – there was only a wall of solemnness. No pain. No regret. No…

Anything…

“Why are you doing this?” she breathed, wrapping her arms around herself in the hope to quell her trembling. “Why?”

He came closer, and she was powerless to move as he cupped her jaw, brushing his thumb across the swell of her lip.

“You asked me why I’d saved you...” he said, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “You are the only one who could ever hope to stop me. And when the time comes, you must.”

She tried to pull away, a scathing retort burning on the tip of her tongue, but he grasped her face in both of his large hands. “Don’t you see? If I stay – if Snoke gets into my head – then there is no telling what I will do. There is no telling what I am capable of. And I…”

His thumbs stroked across her cheeks; she felt the wetness of her tears smeared across her skin.

“I will not risk you.”

“How can you say that? How can you do this? After everything…” she wrenched from his grip, staring into his eyes with the tears freely flowing down her cheeks. “Don’t you know that I will never let Snoke or anyone else ever hurt you again?”

Like a cloud passing before the sun, the tenderness in his eyes faded away, becoming hard and jaded as he set his jaw. “After all this time… You still can’t see it. He is a part of me. There is no denying it.”

“What are you talking about?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand! Why now? Why are you giving up now, when we’re here, when Luke is here and we–“

He growled, roughly grasping her shoulder – but the moment he touched her, her mind was overcome with vividly flashing images that drew a scream from her lips–

And the island was whisked away as she saw him leering over her, hand on her shoulder just as it was in reality, yet his lightsaber was piercing her chest–

And dappled sunlight fell through boughs of trees–  

And blossoms sifted down all around them–

When she came to, she was lying on the grass, clutching her chest, and he was standing over her.

Except there was no lightsaber.

No sunlight.

No blossoms.

Only the pain.

“Do you see now?” he asked, his voice cold and hard. “This is what he would ask of me. And I would rather die trying to destroy him, than risk destroying the only thing I’ve ever loved.”

He turned with a swish of his robes, long strides swiftly carrying him away. Rey crawled to her knees, but the phantom pain in her chest was so overwhelming she could barely breathe and she stumbled, collapsing forward onto her palms.

“Ben!”

Tears streamed down her face, her fingers clawing into the grass.

“Ben!” she screamed, above the rise of the wind.

But the TIE fighter flared to life, and her heart splintered as it rose into the sky.

* * *

### End of Part One 


	16. Ribbon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the words written on Rey's ribbon is revealed!

 

# Part Two: Hiraeth

 

###  _hiraeth_ — a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return;  
a home which maybe never was;  
the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief  
for the lost places of your past

* * *

# 16

## Ribbon

_I'll send out my soul_

_To worlds more beautiful_

_But they won't, they won't know my heart_

_It's the darkest part_

Ricochet, Starset

* * *

Rey’s fingers clawed into the mossy grass; tears dripping from stricken, unseeing eyes.

_I'm leaving._

She gasped; parted lips trembling.

_You are the only one who could ever hope to stop me._

She pressed a shaking fist against her breastbone: pain flared through the hollow of her ribs, like a too-bright sun caught in her chest, and she did not know if it was from the ghost of his lightsaber or from her inability to breathe.

_And when the time comes, you must._

His words tangled in her head, her mind snatching on their thorns. 

_I'm leaving._

_I'm leaving._

_I'm leaving._

He was gone.

He’d left her behind.

Discarded her like so much dust.

Her eyes squeezed shut and when her trembling fingers drifted away from her chest, she expected to see blood. Her vision swam. A spike of pain threatened to split her head apart. There was no blood and yet there was a gaping hole inside of her. It stretched infinitely like the deserts of home, like her heart was too small to contain it and thus it pressed _mercilessly_ , clawing from the inside out–

_Blossoms stirred in the wind._

_But the breeze carried no sweetness; only the scent of fire and ash._

_And the petals became embers that swirled through the darkness._

_She wanted to scream._

_His name was on the tip of her tongue–_

“Rey!”

There was movement at her side. Strong arms curved around her. Warm hands grabbed her shoulders. A voice; gravelly yet soothing. But she could not turn her head to look. Could not understand what he said.

The only thing she saw was the ribbon tied around her wrist, its bow trembling in the wind, its inked inscription mocking her with its silence.

What had he meant to tell her?

_It is selfish of me to think that perhaps, one day, when you look back on this night–_

What wish had she been carrying with her since that night of the festival?

_You will remember _this_ , and know the words that I gave you, I meant with every part of my dark soul._

A cry tore from her throat as she ripped the ribbon from her arm, its silk flashing in the morning sun as she raised her fist and made to cast it away–

“No!”

A mechanical hand caught hers, encasing the ribbon between their fingers before the wind could snatch it from their grasp.

Only then did her eyes flicker to Luke, to stare at him with a hint of betrayal as the emerald silk fluttered as softly as the words whispered that night.

“You do not know what it says.”

Luke's voice was hoarse, like the wind rushing low across the sand.

She did not wish to listen.

She tried to wrench her wrist away, but he held firm.

“Rey–“

“It doesn't matter,” she snapped.

“There is so much you do not know. So much you do not understand.”

Her eyes flashed, bright with unspilled tears.

“I don't care! I never asked for this! For any of this! I've had enough! Of the lies. The deceit. Of always being kept in the dark. You know who I am, and yet you have not told me. You knew he was going to leave, and yet you did not warn me. He had planned this all along, and yet–”

Luke grasped her hand with both of his now, holding it tightly between them. “I could not make this choice for him. And even if I had told you, it could still have driven him away. I'd believed more time with you would change his mind, would show him that he does not have to do this on his own.”

She could only shake her head. “But you were wrong. To think I could change his mind. And so was I. To ever think I could save him from himself. To ever think I could somehow have been enough–”

“Dear child,” Luke said, and his real hand now reached up to lay against her cheek and it took all she had not to shatter into despair at the kindness and _fondness_ seeping through his gesture.

“The bond between you is _blinding_ ,” he said. “It is stronger than anything I have seen in my entire life. It is what brought you back to each other, after so many years of being apart – and for him to willingly leave you behind? To turn his back on part of himself? Do you understand the cost? The pain? You do not feel him at this moment – but do you understand the restraint, the discipline, the will required to shut you out?”

Her eyes squeezed shut. “No. I don't understand. I don't understand any of this.”

“Then... Let me show you.”

She felt numb, as he reached for her wrist and tied the ribbon around it once again.

She wanted to scream.

Scream until her voice disappeared.

But he told her to close her eyes, and she did, tears trailing rivulets down her cheeks.

And like that time when Ben had showed her his memory of the fireworks, her mind lit up with a vision – but this was not quite the same. She saw Ben, standing beneath the lights of the festival in Neverant, bent over her ribbon. He was slowly inscribing the words, and she could feel the tremble in his fingertips, the slow beat of his heart; she could feel everything he was feeling in that moment – hesitance, fear, uncertainty, a strong desire to finally tell her, to tell her everything she was awakening within him. And she could hear the words being spoken, as though the vision was peering into his very mind:

“If I know what light is... It is because you showed me.”

Her heart constricted. Her hands shook, so she tightened them into fists and wrapped her arms around her ribcage.

“And if there is still something human left in the monster I’ve become, it is because you saved me.”

A gasp shuddered through her open lips.

Her eyes squeezed shut.

Tears.

Breathlessness.

Tightly coiled pain.

And all she could think...

_It's not true._

All this time, and the ribbon's words were false.

She hadn't saved him.

She hadn't saved herself from loving him.

She hadn't saved him from the monster yet living inside of him, the monster threatening to rip them apart, the monster that would have the vision of his lightsaber through her heart become a reality.

Snoke.

Her fingers clamped over her lips, as the vision dissipated before her eyes.

“But... it's not true,” she gasped. “I didn't save him. I tried. _Tried_ to save him. Tried for reasons I couldn't even understand. But I did. Because I needed to. Because I loved him against all reason or sense–”

The words hitched from her lips in a broken sob.

“And now he's gone.”

_He's left to face his demons alone._

Tears covered her cheeks in wet streaks as her body shook, like her heart was a thousand sharp and jagged things cutting her to shreds from the inside.

Arms curved around her, and the gentle embrace of quiet strength cracked her grief wide open. She cried, sobbing painfully against Luke's chest, her fingers digging into his robes. She did not know herself in that moment; such a pitiful thing, a little bird with broken wings.

Hadn't he warned her?

Hadn't he told her over and over again?

That there would be no future for them?

That even if she could somehow have saved him from himself, the world would always have torn them apart?

_How many times had he called me a fool, and yet I'd never listened..._

All the while, Luke gently rocked her, soothingly rubbing her back.

“There is still hope. I will contact my sister through the Force. The Resistance will stop him, long before he ever enters the First Order's domain. We will save him, Rey. We will save him.”

He caressed her hair. “Rest, my child. You're home now. You're home.”

Then, he began to hum. She recognized her lullaby, the song she'd been carrying for all her life – and somehow she already understood; did not think to question how he knew it, or why he’d known it would calm her. As she felt the hum of the melody through his chest and he intoned the words she'd dreamed about for as long as she could remember, she already knew.

“It's alright let her sleep…

She can't understand now…”

And as her eyes fell shut, her memories came back.

* * *

They came slow at first; like spinebarrels sprouting through the sand.

She remembered the Jedi Temple. She remembered Luke. She remembered the window of her tiny bedroom, and the thick tomes she'd snatched from the library, to stuff with blossoms and wildflowers.

She remembered Luke singing this very lullaby to her, as the wind howled outside and the thunder split the skies apart.

And.

She remembered _him_.

Remembered the day he first came to the Temple. A tall, lanky boy with messy raven hair and dark, unsmiling eyes. She remembered being intrigued by him, following him through the hallways, always trailing in his shadow. Wherever he'd gone, she'd followed. And oh, he'd snapped at her. So many times. Told her to leave him alone, to get lost, to stop being a nuisance.

But she'd never given up; never stopped trying; determined to be his friend.

How little things have changed.

How very, very little, for even back then, their friendship had bloomed when he'd rescued her.

The field beyond the Temple had been open and wide and dotted with wildflowers; a sea of swaying grass on the edge of a cliff. She'd been forbidden to go there. But how could she have resisted when the flowers smelled so nice, and their colours looked so inviting? In her distraction of gathering a bouquet, she hadn't seen the edge of the cliff before it had been too late.

But he'd been right there.

Caught her hand in the nick of time.

_I'm here, Rey. Don't let go._

He'd pulled her back up, and after he'd finished shouting at her, he'd helped her pick another bouquet, for the first one had scattered to the wind.

Just like that, the tall, solemn boy had become her friend. Her self-proclaimed guardian. Where in the beginning she'd followed in his shadow, he'd then followed in hers, always keeping an eye out for her, always ensuring she was safe.

She remembered their meeting place. The swing beyond the crumbling wall of the orchard. They would go there after their lessons, and he would read to her. Teach her about the Force. Even back then, he'd never been a gentle teacher. Pushed her hard, but she'd pushed back just as fiercely. It always got him to smile when she did that; when her brow was creased in concentration or her bottom lip caught between her teeth – when she'd succeeded in her lesson he would reward her with smiles, and she could never get enough of those.

And just like that she remembered the first stirrings of an innocent crush; how she'd become enamoured with the boy that was so much older, so much wiser, so much stronger. The boy who had been everything she'd wanted to be.

She remembered the distance creeping in between them.

The dark circles beneath his eyes.

The day she'd waited for him by the swing, and he'd never showed up.

She remembered that night, when the Temple was awash with fire and blood.

She remembered the blossoming trees catching fire.

She remembered huddling behind the crumbling wall, smoke in her throat, certain that Ben would come for her, like he'd said he would.

But he never did.

* * *

It was strange. Her memories. It did not feel like they'd ever been gone. Like they'd been there all along, and she'd simply misplaced them, like discovering a box of parts she'd forgotten to sell to Unkar Plott.

And yet, everything was different.

She was different.

A shaking mess of emotion and thought and memory, barely keeping it together. Her hands were tightly coiled, the promise of the silk around her wrist burning into her skin with every moment that dragged by as frustration and anger and fear clawed at her insides. And yet there was more she did not know. More she did not understand.

 _Wasn't that always the way_ , she thought bitterly, as she spoke with Luke whilst the hours of the day slipped by. He filled in the missing pieces, the details that were still unclear. He'd been the one to suppress her memories. He'd been the one to leave her on Jakku. It all started to make frightening sense, and yet Rey wished it did not. By the time the hovels cast long shadows across the fireplace in their midst, Luke finally answered the one question she'd spent her whole life asking.

He told her of her mother.

Luke had met her when she had come to the Temple, seeking healing. She had been desperately sick, but her fear had not been for herself, but for what would happen to her daughter if she were to perish. Her daughter, who at the tender age of three, had already showed herself to be Force sensitive.

Barely a few days later, her mother had died.

And Rey's fist was pressed against her lips as Luke told her that he'd heard her mother sing the lullaby to her. White Clouds, it was named. It was the only thing her mother had been able to gift her daughter. It was a common lullaby, at the time. He'd taken it upon himself to learn it, to sing it to her as her mother had done.

“Reyne,” Luke murmured, his gaze upon the flickering fire. “She'd named you Reyne.”

Rey swallowed past the tight lump in her throat.

“And what of my father?”

A weary sigh escaped his lips, laced with bitter regret. “She never mentioned him. And I was never able to learn anything more about him. I took you in... You lived with me, those few years... I... cared for you, like you were my own.”

Rey couldn't bear looking at him, her body trembling fiercely at the emotion she felt within those words. She did not have to be Force-sensitive to feel it, to understand it.

Yet she did not move, did not try to reach out to him as her heart begged her to.

There was too much pain threatening to rip her apart.

Finally, Luke told her about the night the Jedi was attacked. That Ben had been searching for her, but Luke had feared the worst; certain his nephew intended to murder her. And thus he’d fought Ben off, disabled him, and suppressed his memories of her.

So that he could never find her, the last young Jedi.

“Much too late did I discover, that Ben had never killed anyone.”

Rey could barely lift her eyes; the news coming as another blow she didn't have the strength to feel or process. 

“But he’d always been the core of Snoke's plan,” Luke continued. “I do not know whether Ben knew the attack was coming. I do not know if he had a hand in helping Snoke's men get inside. But I do know, whether he'd had a change of heart, or whether he'd never had anything to do with the plan in the first place - he'd tried to stop the attack. He'd fought off Snoke's warriors. But the Temple had already been lost. He'd come searching for you, to get you to safety. Blinded by my fear, by my guilt and horror, I'd assumed he'd come to kill you. I could not murder my own nephew. But I had to stop him, somehow.”

With her eyes remaining on the cup of cold tea clutched in her hands, she asked, “So Ben's memories have also returned?”

Luke remained quiet, and it drew her gaze up, finding him staring into the distance. “Yes. Meeting you must have triggered their return, as hearing the lullaby had done for you.”

She frowned and some strength returned to her voice. “The lullaby? It wasn't you who had given them back to me?”

Luke wearily shook his head. “No, my child. The suppression is no longer active – it would have faded years and years ago, because it was never maintained. But there had been nothing to provoke your memories. Nothing to bring them back naturally. No clues to your past. Memory suppression is a dangerous technique. It should only ever be used with care – as a tool for peace. Such had been my intention. But power always comes at a cost, even power used for good.”

Rey's frown darkened, as she slowly shook her head. “Something... does not make sense. He never once told me he remembered me. And I know for a certainty he did not know who I was. Perhaps he'd sensed there was more to our connection – but he did not _know_ me. And only a short while ago, he'd told me about the attack that night, which meant he–”

Her body went cold, as her widened eyes flicked up to Luke.

“He specifically told me that he'd murdered the Jedi at the Temple.”

Luke's features tightened with concern. “Can you remember what he'd told you – what exactly did he say?”

Rey carefully recounted everything she could remember of her argument with Ben – that he'd said he'd murdered his fellow Jedi, that he was a monster because of it – and that she'd felt his guilt, his regret tied so strongly to it.

“So he does not remember the truth after all...” Luke murmured. “And yet he had pieced it together that I was the one to take his memories. This is... unsettling. Perhaps...”

She waited with baited breath. “Perhaps?”

Luke rose to his feet, staring off at the horizon, a frown tightening across his brow. “Perhaps he had not regained all of his memories as I'd assumed. But only a few. Or even less. Remembering something without the context of it – it must be terribly bewildering. And frightening. It could wreak havoc on the mind. And if he believes himself to have murdered his fellow Jedi, then the only explanation–”

He stilled, and Rey felt the same realization race down her spine when he turned to face her.

“Snoke,” he breathed, stunned by the terrible magnitude of what his actions had caused. “It was Snoke. Snoke had used my fears, my mistakes against me. Against Ben. He'd known that Ben had not gone through with the attack that night. Yet he'd still wanted Ben's abilities. Still needed him for his own plans. And by suppressing Ben's memories, I'd made it so easy for him to turn Ben against everything he'd ever loved. By suppressing Ben's memories, Snoke had presented his lies as the truth, and Ben would have had no reason not to believe him.”

Rey's vision was blurred with tears, but she angrily swiped them away and pressed past the hurt in her throat to find her voice. “We have to stop him. We cannot sit here and wait for the Resistance to find him. We have to go– _I_ have to go after him.”

Luke stilled – he looked at her with his kind eyes filled with unspeakable sadness – and somehow, it made her cross the distance between them to throw her arms around him.

It did not mean she had accepted everything he had done, nor did she know if she was ready to forgive, or understand why he'd chosen to leave her on Jakku. But neither could she turn away and blame him, when she remembered how much she'd loved him once, when she remembered that he'd been the only father she'd ever known.

He tightened his arms around her for a long moment before pulling away to grasp her shoulders. “You are far stronger than I could ever be, my child,” he said, and tears glimmered in his eyes. “I hope someday, I can ask your forgiveness. But for now, we have a task ahead of us. Gather your things. There is a small transport ship in the cavern below. When you are ready, head past my hovel, and follow the path. Wait for me there. I have some things I need to take care of before we leave.”

Rey could only manage a nod, her voice once again having abandoned her. But when she stepped out of his embrace, she smiled and squeezed his hand, before hurrying to the hovel she and Ben had stayed in.

* * *

Her belongings were few.

A lightsaber, a quarterstaff, and a ribbon.

She realized then, that she had not asked Luke about the lightsaber – it had belonged to his father, after all – but she remembered Ben pressing it into her hand, and thus she clipped it to her belt without a second thought. Not for her sake, but for his. For if she ever had the opportunity to wield it again, it would be _for_ him, and not against him.

Her quarterstaff was a comforting weight in her palm, and the silk around her wrist a reminder that she needed to hurry. And she did, breaking into a run as she passed Luke's hovel. She ran, the wind whipping through her hair. She ran, as the red sunset bled across the horizon.

Her heart pounded, the wind untangling Ben's words in her head.

_If I stay – if Snoke gets into my head – then there is no telling what I will do._

Rey did not know much about Snoke, but she knew enough. She'd seen the terror in Finn's eyes when he'd refused to speak of the First Order's true leader. Had heard the reverent way in which Ben had spoken of his Master. And when she thought of him, this terrible, faceless enemy, she imagined only darkness; the same darkness left in Ben, the tangle of lies and regret that had bound him to a path he had never been meant to walk.

The same darkness who had torn Ben away from her – not only once, in fire and blood, but now again, in cold sunlight and icy wind.

 _I will not let you have him_ , she thought sending her thoughts to this great darkness, _I will never let you take him from me again._

What Luke had claimed that morning had been true: the bond between her and Ben was quiet, achingly, unnervingly so – she'd grown so used to it, it had become a part of her, and without its presence she felt blind, senseless – and though it was because of the distance between them, or because Ben truly was wilfully blocking her out, she reached for him now with all her might.

How could she let him go to his death, when he still did not remember everything? How could she let this be the end, when she needed to tell him how much she'd always loved him, from the very first time they'd met?

 _And I would rather die trying to destroy him,_ Ben had snarled, _than risk destroying the only thing I’ve ever loved._

She blinked tears from her eyes, and they dried on her cheeks as she ran, her lungs burning as she followed the winding pathway. Another couple of steps, and she spotted the wide, dark mouth of the cavern at the foot of the stairs.

And then, as sudden and violent as a sandstorm, she sensed _him_.

Pain _burst_ through her ribs, a scream tearing from her mouth as she fell, crashing hard into the stairs and rolling, sky and earth becoming one as she tumbled. And with every tumble, every stair, she saw stars, and fire, a red sunset and a pitch-black night, and blood on hands that were not her own – and there was screaming in her ears but it was him, his voice, calling for her.

She came to a stop, just at the edge of the cliff, the ocean crashing against the rocks far beneath her.

Her first breath was a scream.

Her second sent tears streaming down her face.

She gasped, then shuddered, grit her teeth as she forced her head to lift but she was pinned to the ground by the pain blinding her vision.

His.

 _His_ pain.

“Ben...”

And when she opened her eyes, for a moment, she saw through his eyes, saw the roof of the TIE fighter catching fire, and when she screamed, it was for him to move.

Her vision flickered and she saw the sunset again. She grit her teeth, and dragged herself onto her elbows, crawling towards the cavern, knowing she was feeling every one of his broken ribs, blurring the pain of her own tumble.

Her fingers clawed into the dust, and the last rays of the sun haloed her in light, and lit up the words on the ribbon dancing in the wind.

And though she could not read them, she now knew what they said.

 _It's not true,_ she thought, sending him the thought with everything she had. _The words you gave me that night. They're not true._

 _But they will be,_ she cried out at him, blinded by tears and pain _. I will save you. This time, and every time, whether you are Ben Solo or Kylo Ren, a monster, or a man. I will save you. I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This year has thoroughly trampled me into the dust. Not only is it my final year in university, but a while ago, there was a terrible fire on our property and it almost burned down our house too. Even two months later we're still dealing with the backlash. But this story has never been far from my mind, and I still intend to finish it. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and please leave some feedback! As always, thank you to [LovelessGoddess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessGoddess/works) and [StarlightSquadron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightSquadron/pseuds/StarlightSquadron) for their support and encouragement. Go check out their stories!
> 
> Come follow me on [tumblr](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/), to view my aesthetics for [Ashes of Eden](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/tagged/ashes-of-eden).


	17. Inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their reunion does not go as either of them would have wished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter did not take long at all, did it? Hah. You guys, thank you for sticking with me, sending me encouragement and not giving up on this story. I am blown away by the responses I've received from my readers. Writing Ashes of Eden is what has kept me sane for these last two years; I can only hope it has touched you in some meaningful way as well. 
> 
> This is the longest (and darkest) chapter yet. I hope it makes up for the wait. ❤
> 
> Special thanks to [LovelessGoddess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessGoddess/pseuds/LovelessGoddess) and [StarlightSquadron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightSquadron/pseuds/StarlightSquadron)! Go check out their stories! And if you're interested, you can check out my [pinterest board](https://za.pinterest.com/ladylionhart/fanfiction-ashes-of-eden-reylo/) for Ashes of Eden.
> 
>  **Warnings:** mentions of blood; descriptions of wounds; mental torture
> 
>  **Song:** [Cold by Jorge Méndez](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUZeSYsU0Uk)

* * *

#  17

## Inferno

 _Loving and fighting_  
_Accusing, uniting_  
_I can't imagine a world with you gone_  
_The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of_  
_I'd be so lost if you left me alone_  
  
_Hold on, I still want you_  
_Come back, I still need you_  
_Let me take your hand, I'll make it right_  
_I swear to love you all my life_  
_Hold on, I still need you_

Hold On, Chord Overstreet

* * *

The world had eclipsed into darkness and the only light was her voice inside his head.

Her promise – her promise that she would save him – was a fractured glimmer in the sea of night. A distant sound so beautiful and surreal that it could be nothing other than a song to carry him home.

And didn't she know?

_Rey... You already saved me._

**_No! Don't give up! You have to move!_ **

There was little hope of that. A piece of debris had pierced his chest; a shard of something long and sharp. A coppery tang filled his mouth. Blood trickled through his fingers while the TIE fighter blazed all around him, its metal popping and groaning as the flames engulfed it.

**_Get out of there – please!_**

Her voice echoed, reverberating through the corners of his mind, vibrating into his very bones – and he felt it, the pain wrought by his betrayal, the hurt cutting sharply at the edge of her plea. It spoke of so many things yet unsaid between them, so many hopes that had somehow bloomed between them, like a field of spinebarrels sprouting in the desert sands she once called home.

Sometimes, broken hopes could cut even deeper than fears.

His vision blurred; the view through the shattered window was obscured by smoke. Oh, it would be so easy to let this be the end. Too easy, to let it all go. To have finally reached the end of his pain, the end of his torment.

**_Don't you dare! Don't you dare do this to me! Breathe, stars damn you!_ **

Her demand snapped through his veins. Mercilessly, it forced his chest to rise. It sparked a fire in his ribcage. A fire in his head, in his heart. An inferno that sent his soul up in embers of agony, burning brighter with every hard-earned breath, every inhale of soot and ash–

For a fleeting moment, the whorls of smoke parted to reveal a glimpse of the night sky – it was dotted with stars. And with sudden, aching clarity, he knew: dying here won't change a thing. Even in death, he would not be free of his torment. His past, his mistakes, his failures – they would forever remain, just like all those stars that lay between him and Rey. Nothing he could ever do would erase his failures, just like he cannot shake those stars from the heavens.

He cannot change who he's been.

He can only change who he will become.

Kylo Ren moved. He screamed, turned blind, and felt the fire sear through his gloves, through his robes, as he reached forward. But he moved, despite the shard still lodged in his chest, despite every broken bone and bruise, he moved. He crawled, cursed and panted until there was dust beneath him and the heat was a scorching sun at his back and the smoke an acrid burn in his throat. He collapsed onto his side, cheek digging into the rock. His trembling fingers reached for the shard that protruded from his ribs, but he knew he could not pull it out lest he risk bleeding out before he even had a plan.

Yet a plan never came and Rey's voice had faded away, and the heat of the fire seemed like a distant star on the horizon.

He drifted, submersed into the eerie realisation that somehow, in a way his mind could not fathom at the moment, he’d been misled. Betrayed. He'd been gunned down. Presumably by anti-air guns, if he'd judged the angle from which the shot had come. And the broken shield generator of the fighter had never been a priority to fix. The shots had torn straight through the ship.

This should not have happened. This place was only an archive – an old temple carved into the mountain. Little more than a ruin now. It should have been abandoned. Its isolated location was exactly why he'd chosen to come here to find the means to reconstruct his lightsaber.

He did not know how much time passed before there was movement and voices. A pair of boots came to halt in front of him, and their owner sank into a crouch. The voice was as pale and icy as the blue eyes of the General staring down at him. “Ah, Ren. I wonder if you can imagine how long I'd been waiting for this moment. To see you, _finally_ , where you belong. A half-dead mess at my feet.”

He did not have the strength to move, to react. To think. Not now that her voice had faded, now that he could not feel her beyond his own brokenness.

Yet, somehow, seeing Hux’s face – it made sense.

The nightmare had finally caught up to consume the light of the dream.

Hux barked an order to the side.

_Bind him._

Kylo Ren did not move as the Stormtroopers surrounded him. He did not struggle as his arms were hoisted back. But he should have. He should have struggled for all his worth – for they bound his wrists in something that writhed and shuddered and burrowed straight into his mind.

“Take a long look, Ren – it’s the last time you'll ever see the sky again.”

He did not care about the sky.

Only about the shadowed-silver tendrils clawing into his blood, stripping away the Force like tearing off the wings from a bird.

* * *

Luke found Rey in a crumpled heap near the ramp of the transport ship. She was breathing hard, sweat dripping from her brow, her body quivering. The pain rolled off of her in waves, the Force shuddering beneath its weight. How she had not lost herself in its grip, he did not know – even he felt dizzy with the agony as he gathered her up and carried her into the small ship.

He placed her on a cot in the hull, and gently took her face between his hands.

“Rey. Tell me what's happening. What happened to Ben?”

She fought for a deep breath. “He... crashed–“

A tight coil of ice wrapped around his heart. “Where? How?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know. He's in... pain. He–”

A bewildered look passed over her face, her eyes clearing, becoming more focused as she stilled. A frown cut across her brow. She sat up, grasped his arm, her breathing yet coming hard. “Wait. The pain. It's receding. It's– I can't. I can't sense him _at all_ –”

He felt the terror sweep up in her – it echoed through the Force and threatened to magnify his own fear. But he let out a breath and firmly grabbed her shoulders. Her gaze settled on his and he held it, giving her an anchor for her storm of emotions.

“The Resistance has been on his trail since this morning. They will find him, Rey. All will be well.”

He believed in the truth of his words – yet the fact that Rey’s senses of Ben had ended so abruptly was troubling. There could only be a few reasons for it, and none of them were good. It was a stark reminder that Ben was in terrible danger, and they were running out of time.

She shook her head. “On his trail? But how could they have known where he went?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards in what he hoped would be a reassuring smile. “The Force may be the greatest power in this universe – but every now and then, technology does come in handy as well.”

Her incredulous blink reminded him of a much younger Rey.

“You placed a tracker on the ship?”

“A precaution I’m glad I took,” he said. “It's our only way of finding him in time.”

That seemed to give her some semblance of calm at least, as she let out a long breath and then gave him a firm nod. “Alright. We should get going. Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Only for you to get some rest,” he said. “You've had a grueling day.”

“No, I'm fine. And you'll need a co-pilot.”

A soft chuckle escaped him. “I did not arrive here with a co-pilot, dear child. I'm certain I can manage without one now.”

She deflated and he wrapped his fingers around hers. “I know it is difficult. Excruciatingly so. But there is nothing more you can do now, Rey. So rest. You will need your strength. I will take care of things from here.”

The struggle within her was evident, and he could hardly blame her. After the day she's had, after all the pain and confusion she's been through, her mind must be overwhelmed and frustrated. Yet she was still somehow keeping it together. At the very least, she had not given over to hopelessness.

Not yet.

And he would do everything in his power to ensure she never would.

When she settled down again, he stroked her hair, humming her lullaby to help ease her into slumber. He sat with her for some time yet, marveling that she had survived all of his mistakes, all of what the galaxy had thrown at her. She was still here. He could still make it all up to her, even if it took the rest of his life.

And he would not fail her or Ben ever again.

He rose to his feet, and as the first stars dotted the sky over Ahch-To, Luke Skywalker prepared the ship for take-off.

“No more running,” he murmured. “No more hiding.”

He was going home.

* * *

Commander Poe Dameron was not having a good day.

When the General herself had ordered him to track down a lone TIE fighter in the Outer Rim, he'd seen something desperate glinting in her steely eyes. She'd given him the datapad with the tracker's information – information supplied by Luke Skywalker himself – grasped his shoulder and pleaded, “Please. Bring him back alive, if you can.”

_If you can._

Poe released a long breath as he peered through the binoculars at the retreating backs of the Stormtroopers and the ancient building carved out of the mountain-side. At this point, it seemed unlikely that he and his small squad could stride through those doors and get themselves out alive, let alone the object of their mission.

Kylo Ren.

He shuddered, suppressing the memory of dark fingers twisting into his head; clawing, tugging, rifling through memories he was not willing to share–

Now he’d been ordered to bring the back that very man, and he would have laughed at the irony of it all, if the look in his General's eyes hadn't been scorched into his mind. To have lost her husband at the hand of her son; to have lost her son, her father, her very home planet to the dark side. He could not fathom the loss, nor the pain she must feel for every second of every day.

His own losses could never compare. And though he would have preferred to let Ren rot in the depths of hell for all eternity, he would never disobey his General.

But the mission hadn't exactly gone as smooth as he’d planned.

His squad had been assigned one of the fastest state-of-the-art stealth ships available to the Resistance. Catching up to Ren had been easy enough, but the trouble began when Ren had approached the planet, giving them no choice but to follow. As far as their intelligence revealed, the planet was uninhabited, and no known First Order bases were located on its soil. It wasn’t entirely habitable, its surface scarred with deep gorges and steep cliffs where violent winds howled for eons on end.

They hadn’t expected any trouble.

Stupid mistake.

The stealth system was probably what saved their asses – they'd watched in shock as Ren's fighter was gunned down and crashed in a whorl of smoke and fire. With some quick maneuvers between him and his skilled co-pilot, Jessika Pava, they'd managed to retreat to a safe distance.

Once they were on the ground, safely behind an outcropping that sheltered them from the worst of the wind, a mixture of shock and relief had filtered through the team: if Ren was dead, then all the better – but who had shot him down?

They’d received their answer soon enough.

The great doors of the ancient ruin had screeched open, and a squadron of Stormtroopers had headed to the crash – and leading their excursion was none other than the General of the First Order, Armitage Hux.

That had changed _everything_.

Poe shook his head, slowly lowering the binoculars as the last of the Stormtroopers shut the great doors behind them.

“It's like they were lying here in wait,” Jessika murmured, still peering through her own binoculars.

“Yeah. They took him by surprise,” Poe said. “That's the only way they could have managed to shoot him down. That, and it seems his shields weren’t up.”

“Why though?” she asked. “I thought he was their golden boy.”

Poe snorted a laugh. “Obviously he did _something_ to piss them off. They’re not exactly against turning their backs on one another. But I guess we'll find out soon enough.”

He faced the technician of his team, a male Sluissi who was intently studying a datapad.

“Calipso, the scans pick up anything interesting?”

The Sluissi nodded his noble, reptilian head. “There is a lower entrance, Commander.”

Poe headed over to stand beside him, as Calipso traced a scaly fingertip along the screen to illustrate the readings of the interior.

“A tunnel – an old escape route, perhaps. It leads directly to the lowest chamber, here. But most of the activity seems to be centred at this area – my guess is it functions as the control centre or a temporary barracks. There are only three floors, and altogether the ruin is not a particularly large place. Yet the energy readings I'm picking up suggests it's not fully manned, nor is it being patrolled. I’ve picked up no weapon systems aside from the anti-air guns. It would seem they do not expect any resistance. This was purely a trap for Ren.”

“I still think we need to wait for backup,” Jessika said. “If they truly did set this all up just to capture him – then how do you think three of us are going to get him out of there, without any help?"

“No,” Poe said with a shake of his head, and strode towards the ramp of the ship. “No backup.”

“I understand the need for secrecy,” Jessika continued, close on his heels. “But the parameters have changed. We were never meant to infiltrate a First Order base.”

He headed for the lockers in the hull, and glanced at her as he readied his blaster. “The General entrusted this mission to us, and we need to succeed.”

She crossed her arms. “So what is the plan? Because even that one squadron of Stormtroopers has us severely outnumbered.”

Poe shrugged and clipped the blaster to his belt. “I’ll go in alone–“

“What? _Poe_ –“

He laid a hand on her shoulder.  “Jess. One person will be able to slip past their defenses. There’s no other option – we need to move now, before this whole place is crawling with them. We can’t wait for reinforcements.”

She let out a breath, her shoulders sagging. Calipso came up beside her and spoke in his even, calm tones.

“Keep in radio contact the entire time, Commander. I will be able to guide you from this end, with the aid of the readings.”

Poe nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

Jessika released a sigh and muttered, “Is he worth all this? After everything he’s done?”

The corner of Poe’s mouth quirked up. “Maybe not. But the General is. And we’re doing this for her, not for him.”

“You are quite right, Commander,” Calipso said. “However… When you find Ren, and assuming he is in any state to speak, what will you say to him, if he is unwilling to receive your aid?”

Poe proceeded to the ramp. He'd asked something along the same lines of the General.

And she'd given him the answer that now rested within the pocket of his jacket.

“Don't you worry,” Poe said, flashing them a smirk across his shoulder. “I've got a trick or two up my sleeve.”

* * *

The world slowly filtered back with fractured sounds and stabs of pain. And though Kylo Ren’s every breath was agony, all he could think of was the _cold_.

A cold that crept into the very marrow of his bones. A cold of black ice and _emptiness_.

Of _isolation_.

The Force…

Why could he not feel the Force?

His vision swam into focus; bright light piercing his heavy eyelids. Squinting, he slowly pieced together his surroundings. He was on a cold, stone floor within the centre of the pool of light; bound, stripped of all but his trousers. Beyond the light, the chamber stretched further into darkness.

His gaze slid down to his chest – the shard was gone, but the wound remained. The bleeding had been stopped, but no real attempt had been made to treat the injury further. There were burns on his hands and arms. His ribs were a covered in a constellation of blue-black bruises, with no sign of treatment.

He'd merely been kept from bleeding out.

“Ah, you're awake.”

The voice startled him. He stirred, but was held down by the weight on his wrists and ankles. Shackles. Those tied to his wrists were attached to chains that traveled upwards, to disappear into blinding light above. And the moment he’d become aware of them, they felt _alive_.

They seemed to crawl against his skin, slithering like snakes in wicked glee of having caught their prey. He swallowed, fighting to restrain a shiver from racing down his spine.  Madness. The chains weren’t moving.

There was footsteps. General Hux appeared just beyond the edge of the light, swathed in shadow.

“How do you like your prison, Ren? A cage fit for a monster, don't you think?”

Between the fallen strands of his hair, Kylo Ren glared up at him.

Then he exhaled, deflecting the taunt for the more immediate concern: the bonds. And, there was something else, something stirring in the back of his mind, scales sliding against his consciousness. The silver-shadowed tangles of before; burrowing, burrowing, twisting deeper and deeper into his head.

He tried to focus, but reaching for the Force felt like an attempt to snatch the wind. A shudder shook through his bones, and he instinctively tugged against his restraints.

“Oh, no need to waste your energy trying to free yourself. There is no escape.”

“Go to hell, Hux.”

The General scoffed and moved along the edge of the light, his hands clasped behind his back. “Is that the best you can do? My, how far you've fallen in such a short time. It seems that scavenger truly has made you weak.”

_That scavenger..._

Kylo Ren stilled, the realisation dawning that all of this was much bigger than his muddled mind had yet put together.

A dark chuckle. “You really have gotten rather slow-”

“What do you want?” Kylo Ren hissed.

The General stopped, and turned to face him.  

“Me? Oh, no this is not about _me_. Why, did you truly think this was my own idea? That I would risk the Supreme Leader’s wrath to capture you – for what? Something petty like spite? Oh, no. It is so much sweeter than that.”

For the first time, Hux stepped fully into the light. Yet he remained at the edge, and slowly sank into a crouch. “But I understand your confusion. You've been so blinded by your own arrogance that you didn't even imagine anyone could outsmart you. And yet… To think you could hide your plans from your Master? That is quite mad, even for you.”

With a wave of his wrist, he rose to his feet. “Alas, I cannot claim to be the one who arranged this little playground for you. I am only a pawn in the Supreme Leader's plans, just as you are.”

Kylo Ren flinched – at the mention of his Master, the bonds _writhed_ – _**in every painful way imaginable, I can unmake you–**_

He was so cold, and empty, and why would the Force not heed his call? The words fell from his lips in a raspy murmur, “The Supreme Leader?”

“Of course. This was his plan all along. Or, at least, the eventuality to which he'd manipulated you. I had simply been given the reins for this particular event.”

Hux retreated from the circle of light, and suddenly the bonds truly did move. Kylo Ren’s breath caught in his throat as they pulled at him, raising him upwards. He struggled, though there was no point. It only took a couple of moments for his arms to be raised above his head and his legs to be held down by the chains fastened to the stone floor.

Then Hux swooped back, and circled him like a vulture circling its prey. “You can thank your Master for his generosity. A kyber crystal the likes of which was used to power Starkiller Base is now carefully attuned to block out your abilities. So I am afraid you're stuck here with me.”

Kylo Ren tried to move, blinked, his tattered senses slowly taking in the reality of Hux's words. A kyber crystal. One filled with Snoke’s ancient and terrifying power. This was what he’d been feeling – the tendrils of its shadow, contorting his mind. It was withholding him from the Force, isolating him from its embrace. And though he could not raise his head, he was aware of the crystal now – suspended in the blinding light above, like a monstrous snake looming over him–

“You thought you were so clever,” Hux continued. His voice was low and hissing, sharp and strained with fervor. “So very clever. Thought you were carefully avoiding Snoke, and yet the Supreme Leader knew what you were up to this entire time.”

Without warning, Hux lunged towards him and Kylo Ren saw a flash of silver before agony splintered through his ribs as the armored fist struck his side.

The world swam and in the obliterating pain, a memory flitted through his mind.

Rey, standing in front of him.

Rey, her eyes wide and sparking with agony and fury.

Rey, telling him he was a fool, for ever having thought Snoke believed in him.

The crystal hummed and ebbed, its power burrowing into his mind. It was not merely blocking his powers, as Hux had explained – it was embedding itself in his mind. A physical manifestation for Snoke to gain another hold over him, and with its shadowed tendrils delving deeper into his consciousness, it would succeed. It would succeed if he did not break free of it even this very moment. The longer he allowed this to continue, the tighter the constriction would grow.

The more painful it would be to tear out.

Blood filled his mouth and he only managed one word.

“Why?”

Another blow struck his ribs and stars exploded in his head.

“Let me make it simple for you,” Hux laughed. “It was never about you, Ren. Not even this, is about you.”

With his blooded glove, Hux grasped Kylo Ren’s jaw, and sneered, “It's always been about the girl.”

Everything came to a freezing halt. Kylo Ren almost did not hear the rest of what Hux revealed: the attack on the Jedi Temple had been solely to capture Rey. And Snoke had known, all along, what he'd been up to – had known that he'd allowed Rey to escape back on Starkiller - had always known he would choose Rey. Yet he'd let the events play out as they needed to, to finally lead to this.

“But you see the true glory of this plan starts in this very room,” Hux said. “This room, where I shall make you scream so loud the foundations of the earth will feel your agony. And while you're here screaming, your little desert rat will come for you. And straight into Snoke’s grasp.”

* * *

Rey slept, but there was no peace within her dreams.

Only darkness.

Nothing lay below her feet, no sky stretched above her head. There was nothing, _nothing_ , yet she could move. She walked and walked, endlessly into the gloom until, eventually, the darkness stirred behind her. She whirled around, but it was empty – and yet she knew it was not.

It was alive.

And she was a trespasser.

Her blood turned to ice, and she ran–

Only to come face to face with a sight that tore a scream from her throat.

“Ben!”

He was suspended in the darkness. Its tendrils coiled around him; around his legs, around his arms, around his bare chest that was mottled with bruises and covered in blood.

She was running, screaming– and smashed into an invisible wall. She pounded against the glass, slammed her fists against it, over and over.

“Ben! Ben, wake up! Ben!”

The coils of darkness constricted around him, tightening, squeezing – she was breathless with fear and hopelessness and watched as above his head, something glinted in the shadows.

It ripped the breath from her lungs.

 _Eyes_.

The eyes of darkness itself, watching her.

And its voice, slithering down her spine and into her mind. “A little ray of light, lost within the abyss.”

Her heart thundered, her bones quaked. But her voice was steady.  “Let him go.”

The eyes glinted like black ice. The coils around Ben did not relent.

“He belongs to me, this monster I created.” The eyes seemed to come closer, like the darkness lowered its head to hiss into her ear, “The monster, to catch the little bird.”

She swallowed hard, let out a shuddering breath. “What do you want?”

If the darkness had a laugh, it was like the shaking of mountains, the gnashing of teeth upon age-old bones.

“ _You_.”

She shook her head, fighting the trembles her limbs. “No-”

“No? Then you still do not understand. The Force – the darkness and the light. It is _us_. You and I. Our fates are bound. And we will either destroy one another, or join in an alliance more powerful than this galaxy has ever seen.”

Her lips curled into a sneer. “I will never join you.”

The darkness slithered, whispered, “And if I make you a deal you cannot refuse, scavenger?”

She shuddered, tried to flinch but it slid its scales against the nape of her neck, and like an invisible hand, it gently – eerily gently – guided her chin to look at Ben.

“What would you give, for the monster you love so deeply? What would you trade, for his life to be spared?”

She stared at Ben, at the blood running down his chest. At the bruises marring his skin and his hair like a shroud across his face. And she remembered his smile, his laugh, his voice ringing with happiness.

Tears streaked down her cheeks.

“He does not belong to you,” she bit out. “Not anymore.”

The grasp on her chin withdrew, and so did the immediate proximity of the darkness. When it spoke, its voice echoed once more from above Ben's head.

“You think you can still save him. And yet it is already too late. It has always been too late for you to save him, little ray of light.”

She snarled, and slammed her palms against the glass. “I don't believe you! I won't believe your _lies_ -”

“There is no need to lie, when the truth brings you so much terror. The monster is bound to me; there is a serpent so deeply twisted into his mind the only way to rid him of it is with the icy embrace of death itself. I am part of him, forged into his very veins. You cannot break the bond without ripping his mind to shreds. And if you destroy me, my darkness will consume him.”

Rey's breathing was hard, as though all the darkness pressed in upon her chest. There was a finality within those words that rang true, even if she didn't want to believe it. Even if filled her with so much despair that she couldn't find her voice.

“You see now, don't you? The only way you can save him, is if you join me. Join me in the dark side, and I will spare his life.”

No.

_No!_

And _yet_ –

She wanted nothing more than to spit a refusal in the face of that terrible deal. She wanted to claim she would never join the dark side. But what if he was right? What if the end of Snoke, meant the end of Ben?

Another dark chuckle shuddered through her veins.

“Next time, I will have an answer. Until we meet again, scavenger.”

Rey woke up with a shuddered gasp, a scream catching in her throat. She flailed, scrambled to sit up, and her back came up against the wall. Wide eyes took in her immediate surroundings. She was still on the cot where Luke had laid her down. There was no darkness here, no scales slithering down her back.

She let out a long, trembling breath, and brushed a hand across her face before leaning her forehead on her knees.

As much as she wished it had been nothing more than a nightmare, she knew the vision had been real. Snoke, the dark force behind the First Order, had spoken to her. Tried to make a deal with her. A deal she could not possibly even consider–

And yet.

And _yet_.

If it was _true_ –

There was movement to the side, and Luke ducked through the doorway from the cockpit.

He gave her a slight smile. “We've arrived. How are you feeling?”

For a terrifying moment, she could not find her voice. Should she tell him? Should she tell him what she’d seen? Would telling him bring her comfort, or only more despair? How would she bear it if he admitted there was truth in Snoke’s words?

For that would mean–

“Rey? Are you alright?”

Somehow, she mustered a shaky quirk of her lips and nodded. “I'm fine, thank you.”

He did not believe her, she could see it in his eyes. But he did not press the issue, and merely gestured for her to follow him. “Come then. Let us go meet my sister.”

When the ramp had lowered, they stepped out of the ship into a small, well-lit hangar bay.  Rey caught a glimpse of the night sky through the closing hangar doors, before they rounded the ship to the handful of gatherers who were all watching them intently. Their footsteps were the only sound in the loaded silence.

As they neared, it took Rey only a moment to single _her_ from the group.

Leia.

Luke Skywalker's sister.

Ben's mother.

And with startling clarity, Rey remembered that she'd met her once, so long ago now, only for a brief time. It was on the day Ben had come to the Temple. Leia had been there, and Rey had hidden behind Luke’s robes and peered up at the lady in wonder. Leia had been kind, with such a pretty smile, and the young Rey had thought she was one of the most beautiful people she'd ever seen. She recalled marveling at Leia's dress: it had been as blue as the sky on a cloudless day, and all she'd wanted was to touch the silk forever and ever–

Now, Leia was dressed practically, though her smile was no less beautiful and her eyes no less kind. And as she separated from the people flanking her side, Rey caught a glimpse of tears in those eyes before she closed the distance between her and her brother, and threw her arms around him.

“Oh, Luke,” she said, a hitch in her voice. “Welcome home.”

Rey's heart constricted, and she blinked away tears of her own as she swallowed against the lock in her throat.

This was all so much, so overwhelming and terrifying – and she was here, without _him_.

There was soft fingers upon her cheek, and they gently clasped her face. Rey looked into Leia's eyes. The recognition mirrored there, though not unexpected, still rocked Rey to her core. And it sharpened the absence of a certain man to cut even deeper – he should have been here, they should have been here side by side, he should have been the one to see the kindness in his mother's eyes.

Instead he was out there, in pain, and she was here, alone, when their fingers should have been clasped tightly together.

But there was something else in the steady, warm gaze peering into hers. Something that spoke of the mutual grief shared between them, something hopeful and inexplicably calming that soothed all of Rey's fears and doubts and exhaustion.

Leia's arms wrapped around her and whispered, “No more fear, child. No more sadness. Soon, we'll all be reunited.”

Her heart quivered and shook and threatened to collapse under the weight of it all – but she forced back the tears and returned the embrace with as much belief as she could, finding strength in the strong presence enveloping her.

When Leia withdrew, Chewbacca was the next to greet her. As Rey buried her face into the soft fur of the wookiee’s chest, she tried not to think about Han, tried not to think about what could have been. And yet it was all right there, in forefront of her mind. The wookiee held her, and the low, keening hum rumbling through his chest quickly returned the tears to her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, an apology not only meant for him – but for Leia, for Luke.

And most of all, for Han.

"So am I," he rumbled, softly patted her back and let go.

More greetings and introductions followed, and by the end of it all Rey was equal parts emotionally drained and filled with sparks of hope as she watched the reunion between Luke and the R2-D2 droid. BB-8 was like a child, spinning and rushing cheerfully around them, beeping in happy tunes as the golden C-3PO droid scolded it for its lack of manners.

Yet there was one person missing and Leia must have noticed Rey's gaze searching for any sign of him for she laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and said, “There is much to discuss, and much to do. But there is someone who has been dying to see you, my dear. For now, everything else can wait.”

Rey blinked, a spark of hope unfurling into anticipation. “Finn?”

Leia only smiled and gestured to a young woman beside her. “Lieutenant Connix will show you the way.”

After a last glance at Luke, who gave her a reassuring nod, Rey followed the young woman who proceeded to lead the way into the base. A wave of questions rushed up inside of Rey, but she narrowed them down to the most important one.

“How is he?”

The Lieutenant’s lips quirked upwards. “He's received the best medical care we could provide. His wounds are still healing, but he's been awake for a couple of days. Forbidden to leave the medical bay. I can imagine he's probably going a little nuts.”

Rey scarcely saw anything of her surroundings or the people they passed in hallways – the excitement building within her chest was enough to make her heartbeat thunder in her ears.

She'd known he was alive.

It hadn't been a foolish belief.

“Here we are – the med bay. He's just through there,” Lieutenant Connix said, gesturing to a doorway ahead.

Rey gave the young woman a grateful nod and then stepped inside.

The sight of him stopped her in her tracks.

He was lying atop a bed, a datapad in hand, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed as he gave his full attention to the screen in front of him.

“Finn.”

His name left her lips with scarcely more than a breath, but yet his gaze snapped up.

The datapad dropped from his hands.

“Rey.”

Before she even knew it she was half-way on top of the bed and had her arms wrapped around him. He pulled her in, crushing her against his chest – and she laughed, as she recalled their hug from Starkiller Base, and how back then she hadn't thought she could ever have been happier to see him.

But she was now.

“Finn, you're alive. You're alive.”

There was tears in her eyes again and she couldn't let go, but neither did he.

“Stars, Rey,” he said against her hair. “They told me they didn't know where you were. Told me you were most likely dead, or captured. And all I could remember was that forest, and the way that monster cast you aside-”

The word was a sharp reminder that so much had changed – too much to process in such a short time, and she was still struggling to reconcile the person she truly was with the person she'd believed herself to be her entire life.

Yet both of them were Rey.

And both of them loved the man who most believed was a monster.

She slowly withdrew and he grasped her shoulders. “What happened to you, Rey? We didn't know what was going on until yesterday morning. General Organa told me she'd heard from her brother – and that you were with him. But how in the world did you find Luke Skywalker?”

There was confusion in his eyes – confusion, and perhaps a bit of wonder. Concern too, and so much kindness. So much kindness and hope that it almost took her breath away – but also gave her the courage to trust him, and know he would listen.

“I have so much to tell you, Finn,” she said. “And... You’re not going to like all of it. Or even understand it. In all honesty, I don’t understand all of it either. But I hope you can trust me. Because I would never ask this of you if it wasn't important.”

She hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down her face until he reached out to stroke his thumb across her cheek.

“Tell me, Rey. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm not going anywhere.”

He made space beside him on the bed, and she settled into a cross-legged seat.

And she told him everything.

* * *

Kylo Ren's eyes fluttered.

And he breathed.

Slow, broken, shuddering gasps that caught in his throat as the armored knuckles slammed into him, over and over again.

Some far part of him wanted to laugh at the vehemence of the General; the curled lip, the sweat marring his typically pristine haircut, the wide-blown, manic eyes. He was reveling in his prey’s pain. Yet he had to admire the man’s patience – he’d bided his time, had never acted without permission of Snoke.

And had achieved what he’d always desired.

Kylo Ren finally saw the truth. His own weakness had led to this; his own selfishness. All this time, all these years, Snoke had been manipulating him – and he’d been a blind fool for ever thinking he could’ve hidden his intentions. He’d been lying to himself, that he could’ve made it all the way to his Master and driven his lightsaber through his heart.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he heard Rey’s voice once more, thought he heard her call for him – but then she was gone, and he was cold.

Would it truly be so terrible if he just gave up? If he just let go? He imagined himself releasing the exhausting control of the pain, and instead letting it finally wash over him, fully, after all these years. Drowning him in its finality, sweeping away the essence of his tormented existence.

With his death, there would be no reason for Rey to come here. No reason for her to risk herself, as Hux and Snoke planned. With his death, he could still protect her, at least from this.

It would be up to his uncle to do the rest.

_Rey._

_Rey._

_Forgive me…_

_I never did tell you…_

_Just how much I love you…_

Kylo Ren breathed.

And then he did not.

He let go – he _let go_ , finally releasing his grip on the pain and allowed it to obscure whatever shred of his soul yet clung to life. Fleetingly, he was certain he could hear the rushing of the wind, could inhale the scent of blossoms - **_Ben please don't leave me_** \- and then, _he_ _fell_ –

No–

He was not falling–

He _soared_ – just like that, as effortless as a bird taking flight, he soared in infinite light. The Force was still there – all around him. It was in the air he breathed, in the ground beneath his feet – it was there, in everything, luminous in its vastness, incandescent and radiant as it flowed and ebbed. And in its clarity, he recalled the most important thing.

Their bond.

The bond between him and Rey – flashing like an emerald ribbon in the golden firelight, rippling like the wind chasing silver, sun-lit ripples through a sea of swaying grass–

 _It is not what I would deem an advantage_ , he’d told her.

 _I think it can be_ , she’d said, and he hadn’t believed her.

He still hadn’t believed her, even after everything they’d been through.

Right up until the end, he hadn’t believed her.

Not because he didn’t love her.

But because he hated himself.

He believed her now. For he thought of a night spent with her beneath the stars, and the ocean's salt clinging to her skin where he kissed her neck; he thought of her doe-eyes and their endless concern, always for him; he thought of her laughter, of her tenacity and the little scrunch of her nose; and he thought of standing by her side and watching the lanterns drift down Neverant’s ink-black river and he wondered, how, _how_ had he never realized – the light could never bow to the darkness–

The light could only ever drive it away, for that is its very nature.

It made sense then, that within the flickering light, his memories came back. They’d always been there, just waiting for the light to touch upon them. He gasped as they bloomed inside his mind, unfurling their petals one by one–

He remembered. He remembered _all_ of it. The first time he first saw her; her wide-eyes peeking around the corner of the hallway, the little catch of her breath when she saw him looking her way. The way she'd trailed after him like a shadow. The day he'd caught her hand, saved her from falling down the cliff. Oh, he wanted to laugh – how their bond had led them back to each other, mirroring the very same manner in which they’d forged their friendship.

He remembered his lifelong nightmares had come to an end in the wake of her light. He'd pushed away Snoke's influence, no longer desiring anything to do with the dark side. And in his rage of being betrayed, Snoke had whispered a deal into his head:

_The girl, for your life and everyone you’ve ever cared about._

There had been no question, no doubt – of course he had refused. He’d refused, and Snoke had sent the Knights. Yet he knew, now, he’d never killed his brothers and sisters. He never rose a single hand against them for all he'd wanted was to get Rey out of there.

Now he desired nothing more than to tell her – finally, he remembered her, she’d always been there and it all made sense –

And yet–

If it hadn’t been for him–

If only he’d been stronger, denied Snoke so much sooner in his life; if only he had defied the darkness–

The Temple would never have been attacked, and Rey would never have been lost–

He may not have murdered the Jedi, but he’d been the catalyst for their destruction.

Then all at once and all around him rose a thousand beings donned in light; a sea of golden ribbons like shooting stars spiraled and spun the very threads of their existence. They were everyone, and everything; they were both within him and within the universe itself.

They were the _Force_.

But only one, veiled in starlight, reached forward and laid their hand upon his head. And he knew it was Anakin Skywalker who whispered,

_You were never alone. The light never abandoned you – you abandoned the light. But it has always been there, lost inside of you._

He could only shake his head, his heart buckling beneath the weight of his monstrous deeds. How could he bear them for the rest of his life?

_Grandfather – please – I’ve made so many mistakes– How will I ever make up for any of them? Please, show me the way!_

Anakin Skywalker’s hand moved, rested in gentle warmth along his cheek, and Kylo Ren could have sworn he heard a deep chuckle.

_You already know the way. After all, you found your way here. All you have to do now is embrace it. Embrace it, Ben, open your mind to the light. It will always guide your steps._

His grandfather withdrew, and his eyes snapped open, and everything seemed to happen at once.

An enormous wave of energy crashed through him, coursing through the very core of his soul – so strong it knocked Hux to his feet and sent the entire building shuddering with its power. It shone from him, through him, like the implosion of a star – it chased away the pain like a sunrise chases away the night, and he could feel it restoring him, healing him–

He knew what he had to do.

With everything he had, he gathered the light, and shone it into the darkness of his mind. The snakes flinched and writhed in agony, slithering as they fled, retreating to the only darkness they could yet find – the enormous shadow of the crystal, tensed like a snake coiled to strike–

And yet.

What was shadow against light?

The crystal quivered, like it was made of nothing more than glass– Through the chaos, Hux’s voice somehow pierced through. “Ren! Stop this madness! You’ll tear your own mind to shreds!”

And Kylo Ren laughed.

For the crystal _shattered_ , and so did his chains, and he was dropped to his feet as the splinters rained down all around them.

Hux scrambled away, face pale as snow.

With the quieting of the building’s tremors, Stormstoopers swept into the room – yet he merely lifted his hand, and they stopped as one; stopped and stood upon attention, their minds buckling beneath the truth of the sight before them without him even having to put too much effort into persuasion.

“My name is not Kylo Ren,” he said, as he strode towards Hux’s side. Then he crouched before him, and said, “My name is Ben Solo. And for as long as I breathe, neither you, nor Snoke, nor anyone else in this galaxy, will ever threaten Rey again. That, I promise you.”

* * *

Poe Dameron would never have believed his day could get any more bizarre – but the scene playing out before him was nothing short of mystical levels of crazy, despite all the weird shit he’d seen during his time in the Resistance.

He’d managed to sneak in unnoticed. The tunnel had led to a dim antechamber. At first he’d thought there was no way out, but on Calipso’s advice he'd searched for a switch, and soon ducked through the secret door into a gloomy hallway. Voices had filtered from ahead, and he'd hidden behind a large pillar as he took in the situation.

Kylo Ren, bound, bloodied – and Armitage Hux, doing all the dirty work.

And despite the massive kyber crystal and its effect on Ren, it was Hux's words that boggled Poe's mind. Kylo Ren had been the catalyst for so much destruction and pain – but in the end, he’d suffered just as deeply at the hands of the First Order. He’d been lied to, manipulated and tormented all because their supposed leader craved the powers and abilities of one young woman.

Poe was just about to sneak up and press his blaster against Hux’s head when the whole damn mountain started to shake. Next thing he knew, Ren was glowing in a bright light and even he, unknowledgeable about the Force as he was, could feel the power ebbing through the air – but there was nothing sinister about it, nothing like that crystal that shattered into a thousand, shimmering shards.

Poe rose to his feet and slipped out of his hiding place. He kept his blaster at the ready, but after everything he’d just witnessed, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be needing it anymore. Kylo Ren didn’t even look up when he approached. Hux, however, flicked terrified eyes towards him, and Poe sealed the look away to recount, in vivid detail, to Finn when he was back at the base later.

“And what would the best pilot of the Resistance be doing here?” Ren asked, as he rose to his feet and faced him.

Poe stopped. In the time since Starkiller, he'd been made aware of Ren's true identity and appearance. Even so, being confronted face-to-face with him - well, it was a strange mix of shock that this man was around the same age as him; and disbelief that all of Ren's wounds had been healed by that light. For a moment, he struggled for words, then he opted for the simple truth.

“I was sent to bring you back," he said.

Ren displayed no shock or surprise. In fact, he barely seemed to react at all, and after a moment of silence, he merely murmured, “I see. I suspect this has something to do with my uncle.”

Poe released a breath and nodded. “He gave us the information for the tracker on your ship.”

“A tracker,” Ren muttered, huffing a breath through his nose. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“So, are you resisting?” Poe asked, cutting straight to the point. “Because I have strict orders.”

“I am not.”

“Well then.” Poe clipped his blaster to his belt and tried to recall anything that could compare to the weirdness of this day. Unsurprisingly, nothing quite came to mind. “Here I'd been prepared to do something drastic, but I guess that settles that.”

He gestured towards Hux, who was still cowering on the floor. So much for the fearsome General of the First Order. “What about him?

Hux’s eyes snapped wide, like he too suddenly clicked that something was to be done with him. “I will never reveal anything! I will never betray The Supreme-” he was cut off, and grabbed at his throat.

Poe flinched, but Ren said, “Don’t worry. He can breathe. I’m simply compelling him to remain quiet.”

Despite everything this day had thrown at him, and despite knowing the man before him was no longer quite the same monster in a mask who had rifled through his mind like one rifles through an old box of papers, Poe still couldn’t suppress a shudder from racing down his spine.

“Convenient,” he mumbled.

“I’m certain the Resistance would find him useful,” Ren said.

Poe’s brow furrowed. “You’re handing him over?”

A genuine look of surprise now crossed Ren's face. “I have no use for him. Of course, it would be preferable to leave him for the rats – but I’m sure you’ll find some way to get him to talk. His capture would deal a great blow to the First Order, but don’t expect them to remain idle for long.”

Poe remained quiet as he tried to digest that Kylo Ren really was switching sides. It wasn’t just his imagination, or an after-effect of the shock of everything he’d seen happen in this chamber – by handing over the General, Ren would sever all ties he yet had to the First Order. Not that he looked like he was going to head back there anyway.

Yet whether his true intentions would work in favour of the Resistance, remained to be seen.

Poe released a weary sigh and raked a hand through his hair, “Alright. Guess we have work to do.”

That’s when he realised there was an entire troop of Stormtroopers still standing upon attention. And he could not help but think of Finn. “We’re taking them too. And whatever ships they arrived in.”

Ren gazed at the Stromtroopers, and after a long moment, he nodded. “Some of them are not opposed to the idea of joining the Resistance. But some are. For now, it would be best to keep them bound until the Resistance can evaluate them.”

The next hour passed in a blur. Poe called Calipso and Jess in to help, and though it took some time to explain everything that happened – it didn’t exactly help that he realised he sounded like a lunatic for recounting the bizarre events – the reality of the situation was that Ren personally bound Armitage Hux, and handed him over.

After that, Ren left for the higher levels of the ruin – he’d come to the archives for information, and he insisted he would not leave without it – while Poe and the others readied the First Order ships, and scoured the place for anything else of use.

When Ren returned, they were ready to leave. Jess and Calipso would pilot the Order’s ships, and Poe told Ren to come with him. As they made their way back across the rocky terrain towards their ship, the wind tugging fiercely at their hair and clothes, Poe recalled the trinket General Organa had given him.

“Hey, Ren,” he said, meeting the man’s gaze. “Catch.”

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the trinket through the air – a locket, flashing in the light of dawn creeping across the horizon – and Ren caught it in his palm.

* * *

It had happened when Rey was fetching a glass of water for Finn.

She'd told him everything; from her childhood memories she was now able to recall, to how Ben had let her escape back on Starkiller and then saved her life. She told him about their time spent in that little dwelling, and how the bond between them had grown. She told him that Ben had left her with Luke, and despite trying her best to not show how deeply it had hurt her, Finn squeezed her hand and the tears fell anew. Finally, she told him that she did not know where Ben was, and all she'd been able to sense was his immense pain. 

Finn had remained quiet the entire time, but when she was done, he'd promised in a soft murmur, that Poe Dameron would bring Ben back. That there was no better man who could have been sent for the job.

She'd stood up then, swiping at her tears and went over to the tiny kitchen area in the med-bay. She’d been on her way back to Finn, water in hand, when a firework of agony had exploded in the very depths of her being. Her scream had torn through the med-bay; the glass had shattered on the floor and she’d followed after it, oblivious to the people who had swarmed to her side.

There had only been _Ben-_

And _darkness_ –

And his words inside her heart-

 _Please don't leave me_ ** _,_** she'd screamed-

And then, nothing.

When she came to, she was lying on a bed in a small chamber, and Luke was standing over her. He had no questions, knowing well the only thing that could have caused her to collapse in agony once again. But he did have news – Poe Dameron, the Commander sent on a mission to find Ben, had been successful. Ben was alive, and they were returning to the Resistance.

Rey did not say anything. Her eyes squeezed shut. Her fingers curled into fists and dread pushed up in her like a sickness; dread and terror and so much anger. Raw anger that threatened to consume her – rage like a wildfire, at herself, at Ben, at Luke, at her mother, her father–

They’d abandoned her.

One by one, they’d abandoned her.

All of them.

There was a touch upon her hand, fingers uncurling around hers – and the rage retreated to a simmering anger beneath the surface.

She did not open her eyes, and she wished he would say something, anything, to allow her to understand what she was meant to feel. To show her a path out of this madness. Should her relief over Ben's safety and her joy that he was on his way back not overshadow all the terror of what still lay ahead?  

But then, without another word, Luke left, and it was Lieutenant Connix who fetched her when Poe Dameron’s ship arrived.

Rey hooked her quarterstaff over her shoulder, and followed the Lieutenant to one of the Resistance’s secluded hangars. It was a ways off from the main base. It would, for the time being, ensure as few of the Resistance as possible would be alerted to the ship. And the person within.

Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa stood side by side, surrounded by a small group of people – people who spoke in hushed voices, their expressions ranging from concern to shock. Armed Resistance soldiers was spread throughout the hangar, vigilant and silent with their weapons in hand. Rey heard something mentioned about the General of the First Order, but the remark did not sink in for she spotted Chewbacca in the corner; the wookiee was by himself, watching from afar, his expression grim.

She quietly went to stand beside him, and they shared a glance. 

He watched her with his soulful, sad eyes, before turning his gaze to the hangar doors that were now opening.

Two ships hummed into view, and one by one, eased into the hangar. When the engines shut down, a tense silence filled the hangar in its absence.

The ramp of the first ship lowered, and a man stepped out – tall, lanky and full of confidence. Poe Dameron, she presumed. Behind him, more people were filing out of the ship. She recognised the Stormtrooper armor – though none of them were wearing their helmets. Another prisoner followed after them, but he was clad in a First Order uniform. They were all bound and walked single file behind Poe, as Resistance soldiers quickly flanked them.

And then, there he was.

And though his robes were worse for wear, she was already moving by the time it clicked in her mind: she sensed no pain from him. He was walking tall, albeit hesitantly, and he was not limping nor cradling his ribs nor showed any signs of the torturous pain she knew he’d endured-

She did not stop, and people parted the way as she pressed forward, perhaps sensing the maelstrom of emotion rolling off of her.

And then their eyes met, and her heart felt like it might _burst_ –

In one movement, her quarterstaff was in her hand, and her lips curled back as she snarled – she swung and he did nothing to shield himself. The blow struck hard and it knocked the wind right out of him – the ache flared through her own ribcage, though dulled by the barrier she’d swiftly pulled up around her – she thrusted forward, and this time he caught the staff in his palm.

“Rey,” he breathed, and it was like a knife in her ribs.

She twirled out of his grasp, struck again – he twisted his body, but made no real attempt to defend himself. Lunging, she put all her strength into the strike, the Force sweeping along with it to hit him in a staggering blow. It caught him across his cheek; a streak of red on moon-pale skin. 

And yet he did nothing.

“Defend yourself,” she snarled. “Fight me!”

“Rey _._ ”

She growled, breath coming hard between bared teeth as she leapt at him – he caught the staff in both his hands, and suddenly she was pressing, and he was retreating until she slammed his back into the hull of the ship.

“ _Rey_ ,” he said, her name unfurling with pain and regret and sorrow from his lips. Tears sprang to her eyes but she did not relent.

“You _left_ ,” she snapped.

“I'm sorry-”

“You left me behind!”

In the wake of her outburst, his silence was deafening.

“You left me behind,” she whispered, and lowered the staff to her side.

They stood, inches apart, yet for all the world they may as well have been on the opposite sides of the galaxy, with all the stars between them. And she did not have the strength nor the heart to cross it all yet again.

Then his hand reached up, and she saw his fingertips tremble as he reached for her cheek.

She flinched. “ _Don't._ You will never touch me again, _Kylo Ren_.”

The effect of her words struck true in a way no weapon ever could.

But she did not care about the sorrow in his eyes.

Only about the grief as she turned away, the grief ripping her heart from her chest as she left him behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has received a great deal of negativity on here and other sites. The ending may be a cliffhanger, but the scene continues in the next chapter. Please be aware of that, before judging my writing too harshly and deciding you are disappointed with the direction of the story.


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